48th Hunger Games
by jacob1106
Summary: The tributes from District 4 and 5 are both fighting as hard as they can to win, but now at the half way mark who will rise victorious in the real Hunger Games? A pair of quick feet, a sadistic heart, an innocent disposition, a nonchalant killer, and one victor. May the odds be ever in your favor. Rated T for Hunger Games violence and language.
1. Prologue

So, normally I won't foreshadow a story like this but under the circumstances I think that it's important to say a few things in regards to the story. First and foremost everything that's in this story actually happened!

Well sort of happen. I took 23 of my best friends and we all got sorted into our districts and had our very own Hunger Games!

Now you may be thinking 'what a sadistic prick he killed his friends'. Alas no. The weapons were made out of PVC pipe with a pool noodle and duct tape, so it's completely safe! Since the actual Hunger Games in real life only took about 10 hours I'll be spacing events out and adding some spice to the story. So if you ever have a question like 'hey that couldn't really happen' or 'the Capital couldn't do that' then feel free to ask me and I'll explain how we made it work. :)

Also this means that yes technically I already know who wins and the plots already decided but that doesn't mean it isn't a great story! The only thing I don't like about it is that I don't actually win... But I'm not going to tell you who I am ;) good luck figuring it out!

Lastly, please feel free to PM me and review, after all the whole point of FanFic is to make friends, help each other improve, and read great stories!

Much love

-Jacob


	2. Tributes

District 1 Luxury

Zane and Hamilton

District 2 Masony

Whitacre and Zophia

District 3 Technology

Bennick and Kindler

District 4 Fishing

Xzander and Juniper

District 5 Power

David and Zeebee

District 6 Transportation

Sterling and Tamarac

District 7 Lumber

Uraburus and Vessar

District 8 Textile

Labute and Aella

District 9 Grain

Vladimir and Flair

District 10 Livestock

Nathaniel and Misery

District 11 Agriculture

Rosco and Willow

District 12 Coal

Oakland and Phynex


	3. Pick Me?

Welcome to my first FanFic story! I'm very nervous about publishing but everyone's gotta take that leap eventually right? Well either way, my names Jacob and I hope that you like what I'm putting together here and be sure to read the prologue, because it's really fascinating in regards to the plot. So yeah! Review enjoy or heck even PM me about how you hate it.

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From the point of view of Juniper

People who demand neutrality in any situation are usually not neutral,

but in favor of the status quo.

Max Eastman

Name: Juniper Cremeans. Age 16, almost 17. Gender, female obviously. Height and weight? Well I'd guess 5' 10'' and 140, but it's hard to tell. Not like it matters. Hair and eye color. Both brown. Gross nasty tree bark brown. I mean seriously I live next to an ocean and I have District 7 eyes. So not fair.

Family members and age. Darcy, I mean Darsea, age 14 relationship sister. Angora, age 42 relationship mother. Luke, age 38 relationship father. I wonder if I should include my cats Tidal and Rip? No probably not, that's not something the training center would really care about.

Previous combat experience? Can I just write down 'a lot'? I've only been doing this for a complete decade now. In all seriousness I don't understand why the training facility has everyone fill out a new registration sheet before the reapings. They have all my basic information and stats inside the training computer already.

I need to be more grateful though, the Capital continues to supply us with top notch training and all the equipment we need to get in shape. There are way better things for me to be doing aside from filling out the same paperwork as last year, and the year before, and the year before, you understand what I mean.

This application should finish itself before I explode. I skim past all the parts about contact information, I still live in the same house, with the same phone, and the same C-mail address. Although C-mail is pretty new stuff here on the coast. Apparently the Capital designed a way for us to send words and letters through the computers in every household if you made a C-mail account.

C-mail is of course short for Capital mail. Like I said they give us everything that we need to have decent lives and then some. As far as I know the C-mail towers are being set up all the way out in District 6! It's incredible. The only thing that we as the Districts have to do in order to keep all our luxuries is simple: keep giving them our goods and loyalty.

Some people in the District, particularly 19 year olds who're no longer reapable always talk about how it's unfair that they go through of C-mail accounts and randomly check up on people. But if you really think about it that's a small price to pay for all they really give us. I'm not saying they're the nicest people but they don't bother me.

Actually let explain on that a little more. They have bothered me before but nothing too bad. About 4 years ago when I became of reaping age they went through the house checking for contraband items and to make sure that they'd have my parents unconditional support in regards to the Games.

It was awkward having them go through my room and all my stuff. Of course they found my sword rack, since it's lying out in the open, and questioned me on the purpose of so many "lethal combative items". I simply flashed them my I.D. for the training center and they lightened up so much. Going as far as saying that they were sorry for the intrusion, to which I told them it's alright. They're doing their job.

It was worse when my sister turned 12 and they tore through her things. Darsea doesn't have the 'ovary power' that I do and she balled the whole time. Once again they asked me about the swords and showed them the same I.D. but when Darsea didn't have one they had to register all my blades in the District database in case something happened to them.

When Darsea turned 6 and had the option of training she turned it down to follow the path of an artisan. Now here she is 8 years later able to paint a beautiful sunset and accompanying ocean but if I handed her a knife she'd cry. Not exactly the career type material that we try to pride ourselves on. That's why mom and dad love me more. Or at least that's what I think.

I've nearly finished my training application when I reach the bottom two questions. Preferred weapon and type of combat/training, list all preferences. Without a second thought I scribble down 'sword fighting and agility'. I'm arguably the best duelist in the entire district. I beat the champion from last year's tournament on more than a few occasions.

I smile down at my answer pleased with all of my progress since last year. The next question is one that must be new to the application since I'm older.

Are you going to volunteer someday? Check yes or no.

I hesitate because I know that I want to volunteer and be in the Games but there are girls here who can easily take me in fight. We take things such as volunteering very seriously and now that I'm 16 the window to volunteer is slowly shutting on me.

"Juniper are you still filling that stuff out? The reaping starts in almost a half hour and you're in your pajamas." Darsea calls out to me from the couch and I realize that she's right, a pain in the side but still right nonetheless.

"Oh shit. Thanks Darsea!" in a panic I check the 'yes' box and fold my application up slam it in the envelope and sprint upstairs. I tear through my closet looking for just the right skirt to make an impression, after all there's going to be cameras everywhere and I don't want to look like a slob!

I narrow it down to pearly wedding dress style outfit, minus the veil and loving boyfriend, something I haven't had in awhile, and a short wavy blue skirt with matching heels. After the thought of a wedding I hastily don the blue skirt happy with how I look. With a quick trip to the bathroom I accent my perfect complexion with blue eye shadow and gloss up my lips real sparkly.

"Damn Juniper! Are you going to a reaping or trying to get some?" Darsea whistles once she finishes her comment. I'm not sure if it was a compliment or her picking fun as siblings do.

"Somebody has to look good in front of Panem." I stick my tongue out at her and see that she's wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt. "Is that seriously what you're going to wear? Not trying to be rude but you should put a little effort into not looking gross."

"If you must know I have some slacks all laid out I was waiting for you to get out of the bathroom." it does make sense, but I didn't take that long in the bathroom. Or maybe I did? It's a girl thing I think.

"Well I'm going to catch up with Luderick and Coley. I'll see you at the reaping." with that I walk out and slam the door behind me. That damn door always has the tendency to fly open and let the ocean breeze in, bothers my mother to no end.

I leave my beach house and walk down the pier to the main fairway in these parts. I arranged to meet my friends here before the reapings that way we could all go together. Sure enough they're both waiting for me as I stride towards them keeping as much of my grace as I can walking in heels on a boardwalk.

Luderick is a friend I met in training 3 years ago. He's a year older than I am and we tell eachother everything. Once he sees me his brown eyes light up and he throws his brown locks from his face. It's the classic District 4 look and I love it. Why can't I have eyes like him? Maybe when I'm 17 like he is then I will but for now I have to live with my jealousy.

"Hey Luderick! Going to volunteer this time?" he chuckles at what I say. It's a running joke the three of us have. I'm the only one who's trained at all. Luderick is studying to become a biomedical engineer, or something like that.

"You know it! Coley and I are! We're going to own the arena!" his sarcasm is almost palpable and makes everyone laugh. He has that infectious attitude that makes me smile no matter what he says.

"Juniper are you going to volunteer? After all you've prepared for the arena we haven't." Coley elbows me in the ribs and I roll my eyes. She's the most beautiful girl in the district and damn near everyone knows it. She has light brown hair that curls down her back and sea green eyes.

Instead of learning to fight in the games she studies them. Learning all about the past victors and what weapons they used, what personality types they have, how the arena played a role in the victor's winning, and other things like that. She's fascinated by them but every time I suggest getting first hand experience she rants off some statistic on why she'd only come in sixth place or something ridiculous.

"I've been thinking about it and I might next time. Or maybe this year. I'm not really sure." I'd never tell them that I've been dreaming about volunteering for the last week. They both stare at me with sorrowful eyes. "But I haven't decided yet." I tack it on to comfort them what little I can.

After five minutes of walking we reach town square and go through the typical menageries that prep us for the reapings. Have my finger pricked? Check. Separated by gender? Check. Further separated by age? Check. Having my arm clenched to death by Coley? Check.

She's especially nervous because she took tesserae for the first time this economic cycle and her name is in one more time. She's worried and freaking out about a single name slip. There are hundreds of girls with their name flowing out of the bowl. The odds are that she won't be picked in her last 3 reapings. Not as long as I can prevent it.

"Welcome everyone! I hope that you're all ready for one fortunate man and one stalwart woman to represent the fishing district the 48th Hunger Games." the lovely escort here is named Ocean. Isn't that original? I hate him so much. He's dyed completely blue with a blue jacket and blue pants and blue jewelry and blue everything. Apparently he never got the memo that water is more than just blue.

He plays the video about the Dark Days. Same as the last reaping, boring. You'd think with all the resources they have they'd make a new video every decade or so. But I suppose there's no problems with it, it covers all the main points: rebellion is bad, we have to kill each other, everlasting wealth for the victor. Blah blah blah.

"Now as is custom let's start with the boys." that's the other thing I hate about Ocean, he doesn't understand any of our customs. Before we had Ocean the girls always went first. But in retrospect that doesn't really matter. Oh well.

He fiddles around with the bowl and eventually pulls out a tag gently unfolding it. "Is there a mister Jordan Halibut?" a boy from the 13 year old section falls to his knees and starts crying. Before the peacekeepers can grab him a much more masculine voice from the 17 year old section calls out.

"I volunteer." the boy cockily walks over to the stadium and in an instant I recognize who it is. His name is Xzander and he's the strongest kid I've ever seen in the training buildings. No doubt he'll be a huge target once he gets in the arena.

"Well folks it looks like we have a very handsome volunteer! What's your name son?" Ocean tilts the mic to him but apparently Xzander thinks it's for him and he takes it out of his hand.

"My name is Xzander Coventry and I'm going to be the next victor." with that he steps back and tosses the mic to Ocean.

"Wow, we have a confident boy this year everybody! Let's see who his lucky lady

is!" again he strides over to the bowl and messes with the name tags essentially saving the life of some would-be tribute. He yanks a slip out but I can't stay silent.

"I volunteer as tribute!" I blurt out not realizing what I said. As soon as theirs silence a chorus of 18 year olds behind me all mimic me screaming that they want to be tribute and I run forward. With volunteering it's first come first serve. Being 16 I'm closer to the stage than the older kids so my lead is helpful, and slowly shrinking.

I turn my head backwards to see Coley trip the girl leading the pack and I'm sure that I'll make it to stage first. She always has been a great friend. I walk on stage full expecting Ocean to herold me as the next tribute but I'm met with a glare.

"Young lady, you've forgotten your manners. I have to call out the name and then I will accept volunteers." he clears his throat and opens up the name slip. "Can I have a miss Juniper Cremeans come to the stage please?" I look at him mouth agape.

"I'm already here." he looks at me equally as awestruck as I am. I thought by volunteering I'd have control over my own fate picking this as my destiny. But it didn't matter. I was destined for the Games far before I even made up my mind to volunteer.

"Well, erm. That's nice. Shake hands kids." we do so pleasantly. Yet when I go to pull away Xzander kisses my hand.

"For a lady so beautiful I wish you the best of luck. You'll need it." I can't tell if he's being cocky, flirty, rude, or kind, but it makes me blush.

We're both directed to different buildings and the moment I'm inside my room the door opens to reveal Coley and Luderick. They're both smiling but Luderick is crying ever so slightly, why is it the guy is the emotional one?

"I don't know what I should say to get my point across aside from come home to us again." Coley squeezes me in a tight embrace.

"Thanks, I'm not worried I'm already working on a plan to win. You can count on seeing me again." my words clearly don't offer her much comfort. The moment she lets go of me Luderick's powerful arms pull me into his chest.

"Hey. Be safe now. I love you Juniper. Please be safe, please, please come back to me." Luderick is bawling his eyes out now.

"I promise both of you that you'll see me again. Not as a body in box, but as a victor and you'll be living with me." I can feel his body weeping around me and I pat his back with as much comfort as I can muster.

"Time!" A peacekeeper grabs Coley and yanks her out of the room only to come back and pry Luderick away from me too.

A few moments pass before my family walks through the door and none of them showing any real emotion like Coley and Luderick did.

"Good work sis you really stunned everyone with that." she sounds so indifferent. "Did you plan on being reaped or was that part of the illusion?" she smirks.

"Well in case you didn't know I was trying to have the most memorable reaping of all time." I punch her in the shoulder and shove past her to my parents.

"Honey we love you, and all three of us know there's nothing we can do to make your odds any better so this is all on you." my father's already denouncing me in case of my failure. Gotta love that.

"I think what your father is trying to say is that we care about you and will miss you deeply, but there's nothing we can do with the stunt you pulled back there."

"What do you mean with the stunt I pulled? I volunteered for the Games on my own will, nobody forced me to." I don't understand what they're hinting at.

"It doesn't look good when you volunteer and get reaped when your best friend's mom works for the Capital and fills the bowls with names." Darsea fills me in on the conspiracy.

"You've gotta be kidding me? I'm about to go fight for my life and this is what you want to tell me? Well news flash I didn't rig the reaping. I don't even know how! I'm 16 for God's sake!" I'm screaming at them.

"Baby girl listen to me-"

"No father. Shut the hell up and get out! I'm tired of you people!" they all stand still. "I said get out!" the heed my words and all leave me alone.

Frustrated at the thought of my parents and sister cause me to sit down in a chair nearly ripping my hair out in the process. Behind me I hear the door knob open up and I fight the urge to scream again. Once I turn around I see Luderick again.

"Ello poppet." he's speaking in a british accent and isn't wearing the same clothes as before.

"Couldn't sneak in without a disguise?" I half whimper half laugh while fighting tears.

"Thought you could use a token. Here it's my favorite pendant." at the mention of the word 'pendant' I know exactly what he's talking about. Without hesitating he hands it to me.

It's leather cord is dyed black with a small metal clasp on each end. The there's a triangular gem hanging from the cord with the words integrity, peace, and love scribed on each side.

"When you aren't sure what to do in there grab this and everything will be ok, I promise." as last time he hugs me too long and the peacekeepers drag him away from me before I can properly thank him for such an important gift.

I'll tell him when I'm home, because I will be coming home.

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Hope you enjoyed! Review :)


	4. Peace in Hell

if the Capital scenes seem 'rushed' or 'frazzled' I sincerely apologize, I'm still figuring out how to write something this fictional, I promise once it comes to the actual part of the games everything will be far smoother and better paced! please bear with me and thank you for reading!

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From the point of view of Zeebee

Culture shock:

The feeling of disorientation experienced by someone who is suddenly

subjected to an unfamiliar culture, way of life, or set of attitudes.

Webster's Dictionary

"Ta ta darling we are going to make you beautiful." a woman hovers over me as I submissively stand against a concrete wall. I'm so confused, the second that I stepped off the train she grabbed me and drug me into this room.

"Speak up dear what is your name?" of any Capital accent I've heard on the tele her's is the strongest. The letter 'w' in her diction seems to have a v at the beginning. So it's more 'vhat is your name?' or 've are going'. It may seem rude but I have to fight laughter.

"My name is Zeebee" I speak as quietly as possible. If I can keep myself from making a fool of myself then I'll slip through far more happily. I've never been one for showmanship or attention.

"Well how tall are you my deary?" again she says 'vell' not 'well'. Her subtle humor makes my position easier to be in. Thank the Lord for comic relief.

"I guess I'm about 5 feet 4 inches. Somewhere around there." like a church mouse my voice is barely heard above the sink running in the background.

"That's perfect! After we clean you up I'll have your costume cut to size!" she sounds so perky and I don't understand why. She literally met me 5 minutes ago. Aside from this awkward conversation I've never spoke to her in my life.

The heavy accent isn't the only thing that tips me off to the fact she's a Capitalite. She has the classic appearance: dyed hair, pierced everything, and her hair is, well it's very, wow. Suffice it to say it's very wow.

Her hair is sporting a bright shade of bubblegum pink that makes my stomach churn. If I had enough money to place bets I would say that the cost of her hair is more than my entire house back home, and I live a comfortable life next to the powerplants.

Make that lived, I'm still processing everything that's going on. Seemed yesterday my biggest concern was how late I had to work every night or when would I find time to spend with Bailey again.

Bailey. I miss her already and it hasn't even been a full day, wow I'm pathetic. Out of every older sister the world has ever produced she is by far the best. She looks exactly the same as me even though I'm 3 years younger. Amazing how an 18-year-old can seem like a replica of her 15-year-old sister. Makes me smile when I think about it.

Even though everyone compares us to each other she's infinitely better than I am. When she was very young she was in a contest to receive professional training for the Games. As such she's far more toned than I am has an air of confidence about her that I've never been able to tap into.

She had an entire decade of training that ended this year actually. This was the last reaping that she could be selected, some people actually thought that she was going to volunteer but if you know her at all then you know that she wouldn't volunteer for any reason. Even if her little sister was a tribute.

I can't blame her, she taught me almost everything she knows. Some combat skills but mostly she gave me a state of mind. The intelligence to 'understand' things that come at me. While I'll never understand how she passed it on but it's a gift.

Aside from that she taught me how to swim. District 5 has only 1 public pool and she's the life guard. So since she works there I have the family discount and would slip in for free. I can hold my breath for nearly 2 minutes, one thing I can do that my sister can't.

If it came to a battle I'd only go for one weapon. Unfortunately it's not the most lady-like weapon and to be candid I'm ashamed that I love having a battle-axe in my hands. Yeah, the two-handed boss of all bludgeoning weapons.

It gives me power and strength. The electric twinge that comes with wrapping both my hands around the shaft and smashing through trees. Bailey could beat me with anything weapon there is except the battle-axe. Everyone's got a knack for something and it so happens that for me I was born a lumberjack in the power district.

"Darling you need to take off all your clothes put on the gown and then lay on the table. Make haste youngster!" the pink haired freak snatches my attention with her high-pitched shrill of a voice.

"Fine!" I momentarily snap and shout at her. Can't she talk to me like I'm more than a piece of meat? Actually ask me to do something as opposed to telling me what to do. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell"

Technically that isn't a lie, I didn't mean to bark at her but I'm glad that it happened, maybe she'll open her eyes are realize I'm a person. Probably not though, I'm a dreamer not stupid.

"You will learn your place soon enough, my darling. Now put on the gown and take a seat." her tone isn't a ignorantly peppy as it was two minutes ago, yet she's quieter. That's when you know that someone is truly pissed at you. When they're so frustrated that they get quiet.

"My name isn't darling it's Zeebee. Thank you." I huff under my breath secretly hoping that she can hear me. Without another word I slip out of my jeans and T-shirt in exchange for the pale blue medical gown. Maybe they have to run some test on me or something crazy, who knows?

The bubble gum lady gestures to the table with a grunt and I take a seat on the frozen metal. Instantly shivers shoot up my spine and I shake with short breaths of fear. They can't harm me before I go into the arena right? Or is that why the careers always win?

"Now lay down, if you'd be oh so kind." the faux kindness coming out of her mouth is exactly the type of response I'd expect from someone or her type. Yet for the sake of surviving the pre-games festivities I do as she says.

A millisecond after my head touches the table another two women dressed as brightly as the bubble gum lady enter the room each holding a briefcase and smiling.

"Hello deary, my name is Chimera and this is Munich. We are going to make you even more beautiful that you already are, that way tonight you can look your absolute best! Now Princess have you explained to her what her costume is?"

No way, her name is Princess? Her parents must hate her! She was doomed from the start with that name, but it means that I'll have to be extra nice around her.

Chimera is definitely the youngest of the women and actually seems happy to be here. Her color of choice is a light shade of purple mixed with accents of orange. Aside from the gaudy clothing she looks relatively normal. The only Capital-esque surgery that I notice is that her eyebrows are purple, the same purple as her dress.

Munich though is dressed in all black a shiny, leathery, creepy, black. Part of me is hoping that she starts to recite poetry because I know people back home who dress exactly like her, just without all of the 'extras' the Capital provides, such as the piercings and skin dyes.

"Actually no she didn't anything aside from explain to me the important that I lay on this exact table in exactly this gown because if I didn't no one would sponsor me and I'd die." I give them the puppy eyes and quiver my tone enough to seem serious.

"Princess, you did this last year too!" apparently my lie was bought immediately. "You need to leave immediately, we have no choice but to let you go for this year." wait, did I just get that girl fired? That was unintentional.

"WHAT!?" Princess roars in disapproval, with a V still at the beginning of 'vhat'.

"I think that you were fired Princess." I offer my opinion on the matter quiet enough so I still seem like the victim. I may not understand exactly what's going on but that doesn't mean I can't instigate.

She leaves the room screaming as loud as she can, clearly pissed off that she's not getting into any special Hunger Games prep team parties, which I'm sure exist.

"Zeebee I am so sorry that you had to see that, we've had more than enough issues with her and that was clearly the last straw. But we're running a little late and you need to prep chariot ride prepped asap!" as Chimera talks she makes her way over to me and starts pawing at my hair.

It all flashes by in one hyperactive blur The two woman scrub down my feet and give me a pedicure, then are working on my hands, then my hair, then generally washing down my skin. It all culminates in a spray down of a special oil that is apparently supposed to help with my costume.

"What exactly is this oil suppose to help me with?" I have to ask because for all I know it could be some type of paste or glue.

"It makes you immune to electrical shocks." Chimera nonchalantly tells me like it's not a huge deal.

"That's cool." I do my best to match her even keel tone and nod my head happily. What does electricity have to do with the chariot rides? Is the Capital going to throw batteries at me since I'm from district 5?

At this time another woman walks in on my total body makeover. This one wearing nothing but a black leotard. I suppose that she's one of the more modest Capital members, or maybe in her own way this is crazy, compared to the districts it so I guess that makes sense.

"Okay tribute, I don't have much time to explain this to you. Wait, did you two apply the oils already?" she shoots a questioning glance at Munich who barely moves her head yes. "Good! Zeebee right? There's a long story and a short story to how these costumes work, I'm giving you the short version and you have to trust me. This leotard won't hurt you as long as you keep it skin-tight."

She hurls a black leotard at me and I instinctively catch it. To the touch its the silkiest material I've ever felt, even more than my plush teddy bear back in 5. It's clearly tailor-made as every stitch follows a confusing pattern that no machine could do without making an error.

"Now go, slip on the one piece, please." even though she said please a second thought it makes me happy so I slip into it one leg at a time. As I do so I notice the unnamed lady handed a gun to Munich. "You know what to do" even though I only catch the last piece it worries me even more than the thought of having batteries thrown at me.

"Would you follow me please Zeebee?" I have the tight silk suit on and I must admit that I look very nice. I walk past a mirror and see that I have neon blue and black eye make up and ribbons braided into my dark pony tail. The suit makes me seem even thinner than I already am, if only it could make me a little taller.

Munich and Chimera lead me to a big room with all the chariots being prepped and tributes gathering in magnificent costumes with bright colors I've never seen outside fairy tales.

They lead me over to the District 5 chariot where my partner David is standing getting his last-minute makeup check by his prep team, who look as equally ridiculous as my team. I don't really know anything about my district partner now that I think about it. He seems fit, maybe he's had some sort of training? More than likely he's a jock with a lean body and arrogant attitude. Not going to subject myself to that.

Him aside I do need to find someone who I can trust to have my back in the arena, not crazy intensely like the careers are but someone who I can count on and camp with. I don't want to be lonely.

Even though people will be dying all the time? I have some messed up priorities, I'll sort them out once I'm back from this hell hole.

"David Zeebee can you both come here for a quick moment." Munich twirls the gun as she demands our attention. "This is called a taser. Normally we use them to paralyze convicts instead of killing them. They release a sharp electrical bolt to whoever it hits. This is the final piece to your costumes. David please step forward." she flips a tiny switch on the taser and the prongs at the end ignite with an arch of electricity.

"Pffft, screw that! You go first." David shoves me in front of him.

"Ok, go ahead." I close my eyes expecting the shock of a lifetime. Sure I've taken a bolt or two, everyone has at the powerplants have but this would probably kill me.

"That's awesome!" David's excited voice fills my ear. I barely open my eyes daring a peak at the pain I'm about receive only to see Munich poking David with the taser. His black suit quickly ignites into a shifting web a sparks bouncing between the superior stitching. In conjunction with eye makeup he looks like a walking lighting bolt. Once I check out my own outfit I see that I match his power.

"Now the only problem with the suits is that if you try and take them off you will get shocked." Munich speaks with no inflection and walks away, apparently her job is done now that we're in our costumes.

"Good luck you two! The actual rides begin in 15 minutes so you have a little time to relax. Have fun!" Chimera follows the same path as Munich right out the door. Leaving me gawking at my costume next to my less than awesome partner.

"Well Zeebee I'll chat with you later." David throws me the peace sign and walks over to the District 6 chariot. Both of those tributes look far stronger and better off than any of the other outliers.

"Great so I'm just going to stand here." I say to no one in particular. Aside from David's bold extraversion the only people away from their chariot is the career pack. Each of them look very impressive and deadly.

The pair from one are both tinted a bright gold, it reminds me of the people on top of trophies. Trophies. Something you can only earn for being the best, for winning. The stylist was right on the money for that pair they look scarily intense.

As for district two both of the careers are extremely short they're my height! Not exactly intimidating, but they have decent masonry based costumes. They're wearing black skin suits with a gray powder dusted on them, no doubt trying to mimic stone. Jutting out from random portions of their bodies a faux rocks designed to make them appear to be statues.

Lastly the careers from four. Of the six wolves in the pack that boy is scariest. His king trident costume would normally make someone more regal and royal but with his frosty face and perpetual glare it accents his frustration. On the other hand the girl is beautiful, she's sporting a short skin-tight dress with blue tendrils the drag on the floor.

Myself being a female I, of course, check out her hair. It's something to behold. Each lock appears to have been braided and interwoven back into itself with blue highlights. Her hair is the ravishing sea in human form. I'm jealous, but given the chance I think I could take her.

The feral group of monsters assembles and begins staring down the pair from three, walking by making what I can only imagine are harsh comments about each of them. It only takes them a moment before they make a beeline for me.

My stomach flips as the time slows down watching each footstep fall with a be all tell all attitude. If history continues to repeat itself then one of those six will kill me in a few days. But there are years when everything perfectly happens and someone like me actually could win.

"Hey you!" the girl from 1 is glaring at me questioningly.

"It's Zeebee, but what?" I speak meekly. I can't afford to make myself a target to them. Targets die at the bloodbath, and I need to go home.

"Where's the guy from your district?" she continues her assault of my ear drums. All six pairs of eyes do a once over of my body and costume before the boy from 4 walks over to the boy from one starts whispering something that makes the pair laugh.

"Next chariot over." I point to the group from 6 and the villains leave me to wallow in my joyous silence.  
I imagined that being judged by the careers would be the same as having the populars from school all glaring at me, but it's marginally worse.

The swagger they walk with and arrogance they ooze is far more off-putting and the tone of superiority they carry is frightening because the careers can actually back it up. I don't want to know the ways they could mutilate me.

"Hey there 5!" a voice too friendly to be a career calls out from behind me and I know that it's not directed at David so someone is clearly trying to get my attention. Reluctantly I turn around.

"Hello" I look at his costume of random cloth materials sewn together and figure he must be from the textile industry so I nickname him as such. "Hello, 8"

"I think there's something in your eye." he points on his own eye, as if I don't know where it would be. Nervously I pawn at my face trying to wipe whatever it is off of me. This explains why the career boys were laughing at me.

"Did I get it?" I step down from my chariot to join him on the ground floor and lean towards him so he can see my face better.

"Nope, definitely not. The sparkle is still there." his tone morphs into something more playful and welcoming than before.

"You mean my costume? It's supposed to be like that." I figured that the electric bolts jumping around my body would make it obvious that sparks will fly.

"Not what I meant, I'm trying to say that I like your eyes. They're cute." the palm of his hand connects to his face as I realize that he's actually hitting on me. Blood rushes to my face in a blush and I lower my head to hide it.

I glance up only to check him out more thoroughly. Tall and lanky his short blonde hair being matted by a ridiculous cloth cap. He's got a cheeky smile with enough baby fat to tell me that he's probably the around the same age as myself. His pale skin works in conjunction with his emerald eyes. I'd call him attractive if he wasn't dressed in such a ridiculous outfit.

"Oh, well thank you. Mister ummm, I never got your name." everyone needs an ally in the Games, and if someone is going to offer me up an alliance I'm going to jump on it, having a handsome ally is a bonus I won't turn down.

"Labute. But most of my friends call me 'La But' since I usually forget to write my name with an e at the end, but you can call me anything you want." he awkwardly puts his hands in his pockets and rocks back and forth on his heels avoiding direct eye contact while still sneaking glances at me. It's adorable, he's awkward but it's cute. "What should I call you."

"Zeebee. Just Zeebee. I don't have a clever nickname or anything." a strand of hair falls from my pony tall and I tuck it back behind my ear slowly, attempting to be seductive and coy. It's clear that anyone could tell I'm trying way too hard.

"Tributes go to your chariots we ride in less than a minute!" a man over some sort of intercom calls out to us and I silently thank him for saving me from making myself look like more of a joke than I already have.

"Hey Zeebee if you're doing nothing tomorrow do you want to, I don't know, train together for the Hunger Games? I could use a sparring partner." he winks and shoots me a ridiculous smile that illicites a laugh from both of us.

"I might have to move a few things around in my schedule but I'll do my best." his smile grows a little more and he begins to back up. "No promises though." he continues his retreat and shakes his head laughing as he goes.

"No promises on what?" David clearly eavesdropping spins me around towards our chariot.

"That I'll wave at the audience, that random kid was asking me all sorts of weird questions." I deflect any thought he might have about me having an ally, or worse getting a little crush. It's the Hunger Games I can't afford to get feelings for someone who has to die for me to live, it's not right.

"Whatever, you ready for this?" we both crawl up on to where we're supposed to stand and nervously clutch the edge. My new manicured nails are splintering the extremely polished lining, I can only image how Princess would react if she saw.

"Now!" the same manly intercom voice signals the first chariot and they open two large doors releasing a flood of excited noises, thunderous clapping, and unnecessary screaming.

All in synch the horses begin their processional carefully keeping equal space between districts. Being careers as soon as the pair from 1 pass through the doors the deafening noise magnifies. People screaming "Zane! Zane! Zane!" take over everyone's attention, leading me to believe that he's a typical career type.

Of course 2 earns the same screaming and cheers of glee. Both of those districts are the lapdogs of the Capital so it's not surprising that everyone would clamor a little more, shout louder, and crave the extra attention that careers tend to give. However, once 3 has the spotlight the crowd dulls down ever so slightly. It's a shame that you have to be mentally unstable to grab attention from the Capital.

Same as the other careers 4 gets another round of applause with all sorts of screaming, by now the amount of flowers strewn on the walkway cover more of the bricks than are left revealed. Now that it's finally my turn to travel through the gates my palms begin to sweat and I fear I'll somehow mess this up.

It's the ultimate torture for someone like myself, who enjoys being behind the scenes, who'd rather watch than play, and prefers to be overlooked as opposed to noticed to be put in a fancy costume as shown off to a sea of judgemental strangers. Every year people claim that the games don't start at the reaping they start at this: the chariot rides.

My mind blanks once the lights of the Capital beam down on David and I. The massive rooms holds more Capitalites than I thought existed. Of course people clap for us just because we're tributes but it's nothing more. I need to do something special. Something creative. Something that'll get us noticed as real players in the Games.

David must be able to read minds because once I ended my train of thought he starts having some sort of controlled panic attack. Flailing his limbs around wildly to make the electricity buzz through the air and jump from one arm to his other. I follow suit and almost immediately after I start moving around bolts arch from my arms to his torso and his legs to my abdomen.

Two separate people working together for the same cause, it's almost poetic and everyone loves it. There's a possibility that I'm hearing things but I'm positive that my name, my name, is being yelled at me.

We continue our electrical dance until every last tribute venues down the walkway and we are corralled in a circle at the end. Many tributes are dressed in ridiculous outfits: the pair from 7 are trees, Labute and his partner in the cloth quilt outfits, and 12 are coal miners to name a few. No one actually looks 'good' per se.

"Settle down, everyone please settle down." President Shinto's atop a huge column gazing down on us calling for the audience to chill. It's his speech time.

"Welcome tributes, to the Capital. Not only my home but your home. The home of all of us!" the crowd collectively erupts in a screech of glory. "Please calm calm." everyone listens and silence echoes, it's a powerful silence and for some reason the world is almost at peace.

"Tributes please enjoy your stay! The world, our world, is at your fingertips. It's the least we can do to honor your dedication to the country and your undying bravery. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" for the last time the herd of airheads filling the stands cheer until the cameras cut off.

Like that all the tributes, myself included, hop off our horse-drawn showboats. I'm immediately greeted by Chimera, Princess, Munich, the unnamed lady, and what I can only assume is David's prep team.

"You guys did amazing! I hadn't even thought of the suits bouncing off each other! Simply brilliant! David how did you the suits would work in conjunction with one another?" the woman with no name is practically jumping out of her skin.

"I didn't, I just wanted to dance." once he finishes we all share a good hearty laugh. David seems like a decent guy, scatter brained but still cool.

"I hate to interrupt but what's your name?" I pipe up barely audible over the laughter coupled with the sound of the Capitalites exiting the grand room. I stare directly at the lady until she realizes my question is aimed at her.

"Oh? My name is Corvet. Sorry I was running around earlier forgot to introduce myself. But that's not important. Technically I'm your stylist but since David's fell ill I'm doing both of you this year. Very crazy." she laughs. "What is important is training tomorrow, and you won't do well unless you get some sleep!"

"You're right." nod my head as she takes David and I arm in arm and practically drags us to the elevators throwing both of us in the same one.

"Play nice and sleep well." she pressed the 5 button and leaves us in silence. I look at him and he stares back, and awkward silence manifests between us. I know I've got a few days of training to talk to him but now seems like the opportune moment.

"David would you ever consider being in an alliance?" the elevator begins moving fast and time begins ticking away, luckily immediately after I finish my sentence he responds.

"Not with you. I don't want to spend time working with you and protecting each other just to have to kill each other." we halt in the elevator and the door opens up to our temporary home. "But you need to stick with that boy, he's got the hots for you something fierce."

David wastes not time running to his room to let me have some alone time. Being alone for the first time since the reaping makes me cry. Not because I'm alone, isolation never bothered me. I cry because to come home I have to fight to be alone. Fight for solitude and isolation as a victor.

Victory shouldn't be solitude, actually I don't know what this victory would be, or whether it's worth fighting for.

* * *

hope you enjoyed! review and have a good day!

-much love


	5. I See You Watching Me

this is the best chance to get at least a quick glimpse of all the tributes, one of which is indeed myself can you guess who ;) enjoy and please have a great day!

* * *

From the point of view of Xzander

Don't hate me because I'm better than you,

hate yourself because you're not as good as me.

Anonymous

This entire process is long and boring. The chariot rides, the training, and tomorrow night the final interviews. They could speed things up if they'd throw us all into the arena without the horns and sirens, certainly make my job a tad easier.

I didn't volunteer my services to the Capital so they could dress me up like King Trident and show me off the a bunch of hysterical screaming women and a bunch of rich old men nonetheless. The only thing getting me through this is the promise that in a few more days I can start killing off all these mongrel underlings.

Even now I'm stuck waiting for another formality that every tribute has to endure. The all important private training sessions. All 24 of us are lined up vying for the chance to prove that perhaps we have what it takes to come out alive as the 48th Victor of the Hunger Games. Sure enough it'll be me.

I've spent a good deal of my three training days watching the competition and trying to dissect everyone's strengths and weaknesses. Carefully picking my targets and who I'm going to assign the careers to take down. They'll all listen to me I'm the puppet master of these games and it's going to stay that way.

The careers this year are, interesting to say the least. Matter of fact all 6 of us in one way or another volunteered to be in the games, but when I think about it only Zane myself and maybe just maybe Juniper should have. The others are far too young and feeble.

Zane is the current occupant of the title 'District 1 male'. As far as I'm concerned he's upheld the title of that spot perfectly. He has the classic district 1 look; he's tall as I am with blonde hair that he's spiked up every day. In terms of muscles he's probably the beefiest tribute here, not meaning that as an insult he's just the biggest guy no easier way to say it.

He's got these eyes though, freaks me out. They're literally the ocean. I don't know how it works but they're blue as a tidal wave crashing into the beach.  
In training Zane's proven that he's decent with essentially every weapon. He can throw spears, hack someone up with a sword, throw knives with the best of them, and damn he has something for clubs. Spent most of his time with a club swinging it around.

More than one occasion has he nearly hit someone and I'd holler at him "Don't do anything stupid!" the penalties for hurting someone before the Games begin is dire and I can't afford to have a weak pack.

Next in line is Hamilton, or as she prefers it 'Hammi'. Now I don't judge but what kinda name is Hamilton for girl? Her parents must have been really hungry when she popped out and said hello. All jokes aside she's got the career potential, her biggest issue will be her age she's only like 15 maybe? Shy of my height by about half a foot with light brown hair pulled so perfectly back in a ponytail. Each strand in it's place at all times. She mentioned it a few times actually, talking about the balance of the universe, now I'm not sure how her hair falls into that category but she's one hell of a girl to talk to.

Regardless she's in my group and I trust her. She's easily the tribute who's done the most plotting and campaigning around. Her voice cuts through the air like a razor. Which also conveniently happens to be her favorite weapon, throwing knives. Her aim might not be perfect but she's got more than enough skill to take someone down if she has to and in the end that's all that matters.

Comparing apples to apples her skills with knife throwing probably doesn't quite match up to the next career in line. Little itty bitty Whitacre. He's the tiniest boy out here and tied for the youngest. Short cropped dark hair with eyes to match. The whole time in training he would watch the other tributes and make sly one liners about how they lacked any skills whatsoever.

The only reason I'd include him in my pack is because he showed me that he can run some cool cadences with two swords. Florentine style isn't the easiest skill to come by and he proved that he owns it. Plus he can really throw those damn knives. I'd never tell him this but I think he might actually match my level of talent in that particular field.

Whitacre's partner from 2 also shares his look. Zophia is again short with dark hair and deep brown eyes. In fact I could see her and Whitacre being twins in a past life. My hope is that they don't get the sibling bond since in the arena that's dangerous. We all have a connection to our partner but they need to keep it as strictly acquaintances.

I like Zophia. She's got this cheeky innocence to her that I can't wait to destroy. Her favorite weapon is a quarterstaff, and I'm gonna show her exactly how much blood she'll have to shed to kill someone with it. Her transformation will be from the nice girl to a cold blooded killer, and then after she craves murder as much as I do I'm going to slaughter her. Nothing personal but she's going to die.

In terms of careers the only one's left are myself and my partner Juniper. She's a unique one. Juniper, probably named after the juniper berries that grow along the marshes. The fascinating thing about juniper berries is that they're one of the sweetest fruits I've ever had, but they have the toughest exterior shell, not unlike a coconut.

Juniper's that way. During the train ride she showed exactly how weary of me she really is, I guess there's someone on this earth who can resist my charm and charisma. While she's kept her distance she's also gotten so close to me, some random inverse relationship that happened.

I don't know why exactly but Juniper's cool, I'll take her as far as I can in these games for the sake of my districts pride, but also because she's got something special about her. Something undefinable, very killable at the same time. Her skills revolve around one on one combat with swords and she makes for one hell of a dualist. I'm pleased that she got reaped and volunteered.

Suffice it to say I'm the leader of the pack. I'm the oldest at 17 and aside from Zane I'm the only one over 5 feet 9 inches. Furthermore as the expression goes my hat has the most feathers in it.

At the survival station I showed my mastery of all skills revolving around the outdoors. At plants only Juniper could surpass my knowledge of poisonous and healthy plants. Plus in general conversation I've got the quickest tongue. Perhaps when Whitacre is older he could match my level of conversation. In fact he's like a mini-me.

I too present myself with short dark brown hair, from a distance it's almost black if you don't look carefully. My eyes match shade for shade and on more than one occasion I've been accused of being stoned because they couldn't tell where my pupil ended and my iris started. Such idiots.

I keep my look classy and classic. My stubble is never too short and rarely am I clean shaven, it makes me look too young when I don't have facial hair. I exude the air of maturity to make myself seem older and more intimidating.

When it boils down to it not only am I a dog with a big bark, I have pretty big bite to match. As the oldest I've been training the longest and much like Zane I can be deadly with damn near every weapon. My personal preference will always be swords but with the amount of careers who favor them I know that I'll have to improvise.

That's not an issue in the least bit. If I have to I'll strangle every last tribute with my belt, that or bash their head in with a rock. I'm ferocious and with my superior strength I have no issue with any weapon I get my mits on.

"Would Zane please enter." a voice come over the intercom and the sessions finally being. He steps through a set of gray doors with the Capital insignia. I can only wager that whatever he's showing them had ought to be good enough to get an 8. For real guy contenders in the games that's the cut off, for girls it's 7. I'll be eagerly awaiting the results tonight.

I've spent a good deal of my training time scoping out the competition and aside from the careers I don't think that I'll have many problems. The pair from 3 are both big and strong but when I observe his behavior he's as dense as a brick. I look at the tribute info screen and see his name is Bennick with partner Kindler.

She could be an issue potentially. I saw her with a spear early and her aim isn't half bad, now how a brainiac from 3 learned to throw a spear I'll never know but she's on the radar. Plus now that I'm looking she's the only tribute with tan hispanic skin. Aren't we blessed with such diversity. Least I won't be called racist for killing her.

The boy from 5 seems really jittery like he's afraid the world's out to get him. But when I saw him run the gauntlet he had the fastest time of anyone, myself included. Mind you that it was only by mere seconds. His name's David one I should probably remember but inevitably won't.

I'll remember his partner. Her name is Zeebee, such a fun name to say. I've seen her playing around with the battle axe swinging so nonchalantly, trying to seem weak and needy around that idiot from 8. Batting her eyes at him. She's got a social game and that could be the most deathly foe to combat in the arena.

Speaking in terms of district aside from the careers District 6 has the best looking tributes. The girl in particular, I check the board for her name, Tamarac. She has a blonde tomboy look and has a pissed off expression glued to her face. If anyone I'd want her to join the careers and replace one of the clearly weaker tributes from 2.

I decide to pay her a visit and stride over to her with my head raised high and a smile across my face. I'll give her an offer she can't refuse. Once I reach her she tries to ignore me.

"Hello my lady. My name is"- she rudely cuts me off.

"Xzander, I know who you are career boy." so she's heard of me, must be since I'm so renowned in outlying districts.

"And I you Tamarac, nice to make your acquaintance." I bow slightly in sign of respect. It's only proper to play with your food before you eat it.

"Oh, well thanks. To what do I owe the pleasure of such a riveting conversation?" I'm not a dumbass and I can easily recognize when someone's trying to patronize me. It simply doesn't have an effect on me anymore.

"Such attitude, put your claws away, I'm here to offer you an irresistible one time deal to join the careers. We could use a blonde, aside from Zane we all look like cousins." assuming she accepts then I can off a few of my allies in the bloodbath and lower the amount of deadly tributes.

"Xzander go shove it. I want nothing to do with any of you. As a matter of fact find me in the arena I'll kick you ass then." when she finishes she spits in front of me with a hellish glare.

"So be it, I'll see you in the arena." I turn on my heel and walk away. But not without catching another clipse of her partner Sterling. He's a particularly fascinating specimen. Military peacekeeper style haircut and an overly tight shirt tells me that for whatever reason this kid's trained.

My best guess would be that his father is a peacekeeper and intends to pass down the torch when he's old enough to get hired in the government, what a shame I have to slit his throat before he gets the chance.

I re-enter the line which has only moved up through Kindler who recently was called in. With the moments I have ahead I continue my judgments of the tributes. District 7's girl is nothing threatening, she's stacked I'll give her that. Unfortunately you can't usually punch your way to Victor Village it takes some skill. Sorry Vessar but you'll be a bloodbath.

Her partner is a different story. Much like Sterling, Zane, and myself he's strong and it's obvious. He ripped the sleeves off of his uniform to show that extra amount of skin to get that extra amount of attention. His score will reveal exactly how dangerous he really is, muscles aren't anything if you can't hold a sword with both hands. If I remember any name it'll be his, Uraburus.

As for the pair from 8 Aella and Labute I have nothing remarkable to think about either of them. Labute has spent all his time falling hand and foot for Zeebee and she cheerily accepts his attention with a shy smile. A couple like that can be dangerous. I'll have to rip their hearts out to make sure that nothing happens.

Both 9 and 10 don't offer me much to work with. Flair spent most of her time talking and dancing around the training facilities while Vladimir worked on improving his swords skills. Nathaniel is a filthy little peasant boy from the farms who clearly doesn't know what manipulation is. I spent a few moments with him forging a faux alliance. Told him that I wouldn't kill him unless I had to. Which in a sense is true but I have to kill everyone so it doesn't really apply to the situation.

Misery is the tribute who sticks out the most from the four. Yesterday during training she started a yelling match with herself and a wall about how she intended to kill every career this year and take our fingers as trophies back to the Capital. Probably to sell them, I imagine my digits would go for quite a fine pay day onthe black market, but alas she won't be touching me.

The final two districts offer nothing worth while. Rosco and Willow of 11 are both short and seem weak. District 12 has Phynex who's ironically enough a ginger typically staring off into space. Her partner Oakland probably hasn't said a dozen words to anyone. Like I said nothing noteworthy enough to get me worried.

"Xzander is up next." the intercom calls me to my session. It would appear as though I lost track of time evaluating all the tributes for myself.  
The massive room I walk into is an exact replica of the room that the normal training sessions are in, cheap bastards couldn't afford two architects. Don't matter this is the perfect place to stage the beginning of my journey.

"Good evening everyone, I'm Xzander District 4 age 17 for your entertainment." I acknowledge the gamemakers with a two finger salute and walk over to the sword station grabbing the first sword that seems to meld into my pale. I grin vindictively.

With the veracity of a tiger the blade swings around my head and body cocooning me in an impenetrable sphere of steel. I make my way to a single dummy and hastily chop it's head off resulting in a pleasant thump when it makes contact with the floor. I smirk at the familiar feeling of a saber, history has created an intangible bond of the weapon and the master.

To hell with showing them skill. They've seen that in me the last three days that's boring. They never get to see how truly bloodthirsty a tribute is. I place the sword back on the proper rack earning a few skeptical glares as I saunter over to the knives. With a mischievous smirk I grab the most malicious one I can find.

Once I return to the same decapitated dummy I kick the stand which holds it up. The dummy topples over and lands on the ground. Immediately I pounce downward like a lion to a freshly slaughtered gazelle. I take my time cutting off every finger and then remove the limbs entirely.

After a few minutes of mutilation all that remains is a pile of foam digits and what used to resemble a human torso. I gaze down upon my work satisfied with how well I've disemboweled the figure, gingerly I toss the knife at a target 10 feet away and mark a perfect bullseye. No surprise there.

With my head held high and a smirk plastered to my face I leave the room without another word. They don't get to tell me to leave. I'm letting them know that I'm done with them. That's how this is going to work.

After I leave the room my day is essentially over. I go back to my floor and take a short nap only to be woken up my Juniper shaking me."Wake up! The results are going to be on soon and we need to be there!" my ears perk up at the word results and I hop out of bed clothed in nothing but my boxers and pride.

"Well Juniper what the hell are we waiting for get moving!" I give her a gentle nudge and she scampers out of my room with myself hot on her trail.

"Looks like we haven't missed anything yet." she fiddles with the Capitalized version of a remote and finds the proper channel.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen! I hope the day has treated you well!" I tune out at the sound of Caesar Flickerman's typical formalities and attempts at humor, it's really not my concern

"Now for District 1" my focus shifted from space back to the television at the sound of his statements. "Zane 8. Hamilton 7" those scores aren't half bad. They keep my respect for now. "District 2 Whitacre 5. Zophia 6." my jaws slams to the floor.

"Juniper that's got to be mistake or a huge joke. Careers don't get below 7's. They have some explaining to do tomorrow."

"Sssshhh Xzander he's almost done with District 3" she waves her hand at me like it will actually lower my voice.

"... both of whom get 8's." looks like the tributes from 3 did better than I thought.

"Now for District 4" I reach the edge of my seat anxiously waiting. My heart beats rapidly and my breath shortens. I reach in my pocket and take a hit from my inhaler which calms everything down. "Xzander with a 9."

"Hell yeah! That's how we do it!" I pump my fist in celebration

"and Juniper with a 7." she joins me on her feet and gives me a high five,  
We exchange congrats and watch the rest of the results with smiles gracing our faces. The only district whose total score beats ours in 6 aka Tamarac and Sterling. It bothers me a tad but I shrug it off happy with the third highest rating of any tribute.

As always there's lots of 5's and 6's with the lowest going to miss dancer girl. Only a 3, how pathetic can one person be?

I probably could have done better. They weren't look for the show I gave them they wanted something with less flash and more efficiency. Can't blame them for that, but when it boils down to it, I'm the deadliest so a number is nothing more than that. A number.

Now finally the stage is set. Victory will be mine.

Zane- 8  
Hamilton - 7  
Whitacre - 5  
Zophia - 6  
Bennick - 8  
Kindler - 8  
Xzander- 9  
Juniper - 7  
David -8  
Zeebee - 5  
Sterling - 11  
Tamarac - 8  
Uraburus - 10  
Vessar - 6  
Labute - 5  
Aella - 7  
Vladimir - 7  
Flair - 3  
Nathaniel - 7  
Misery - 6  
Rosco - 6  
Willow - 6  
Oakland - 5  
Phynex - 5

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Well that gives you a good peek at who all the tributes are, I wanted at least at my friends to get a mention in there and with the speed I'm going through the Capital chapters it hard to give everyone a proper shout out, so I apologize to my friends who don't get enough attention some of you just die fast so it makes focusing on you redundant

either way! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and as always I appreciate your time in review my work and letting me know what you think

much love!


	6. Very Clever

**Hey, so this is the last of the 4 main characters that the story will be told from, this is also the beloved interview scene! I hope you like it! Also, I apologize for the length there are so many last minute details I had to include and foreshadow and what not. Thanks for reading and I appreciate it so much!**

* * *

From the point of view of David

"Just because I'm sassy and have a mouth on me

doesn't mean I'm coming from a negative place"

Ke$ha

I've never been so torn in my life as the alarm clock hums a pleasant tune signaling that I need to get up since it's noon. Apparently this is called symphony music. The plethora of tones overlapping and interweaving shouldn't make any sense, yet I love it. Reluctantly I stretch over and pound the alarm snooze button blessing myself with a few more minutes of this sleep ridden haze.

My head falls back into a pillow of supreme fluff and support. I've never been this comfortable and petrified at the same time. On the one hand I've never had so many luxuries. Take for example something as simple as the pajamas I'm wearing, I've been told they're silk, a cloud mimicking material that warms and cools at the same time. The plush material slips and slides between my fingers tickling my leg gently as I go.

Little things like the P.J.'s and even the alarm clock make this experience insanely enjoyable. Personally the absolute best thing that I've had during my stay has been a type of pink juice. When I asked Corvet what it was called she told me that it was 'guava juice'. The sweet tangy liquid is something that I'll indulge myself in every chance I have left, because my days could be coming to an end.

Speaking in terms of the worst case scenario I have a little over 24 hours to live from this moment. This comfortable stress absorbing bed is merely the platform to my ultimate unraveling -my death. This is my last day in the Capital, the training is all done, I've seen my competition, I've strutted as much as I could and the only thing left to help me win people over to my cause are the interviews tonight with Caesar Flickerman.

Again the melody of my alarm graces my ears and I smile, if for no reason aside from the irony of this whole situation. They pamper us to be killed, treat each one of us like a king just to slash our throats without remorse. We're the greatest lambs groomed to the brink of perfection, each individually prepped and pampered with prosthetic love and material wealth. Once more I stretch over and gingerly yank the cord from the wall, now bitter at the tune for no reason aside from the fact that it's from the Capital.

They've managed to brainwash every Capitalite into thinking this is ok simply because we pull the trigger. Of course it's evil for the wolves to partake in a feeding frenzy of merciless bloodshed but it's an entirely different matter if you place 24 perfect and innocent lambs in a tomb with a few knives and say 'kill each other'. That's fine right? Apparently, at least that's how the world has been convinced to justify murder; my murder, Zeebee's murder, and everyone else who I've met the last few days. I think the ultimate kicker is they force us to eat out of their hands again and beg for help and any possible edge we can each individually get.  
I spare myself the continuation of this rebellious train of thought in favor of actually getting out of bed and starting the day. Corvet told me that today will be mostly quiet time to myself. It would seem as though she's taken more of a shine to Zeebee and the two will spend the day getting ready for the interviews tonight. Now, I'm not an idiot and I know a sham when I see one. It's obvious that out of the two of us they have more faith in her being able to win the games, when in reality according to the Game maker scores I'm the better bet to make.  
I throw my feet over the edge of the bed until they smack on the cold hardwood floors. When I rise from the heavenly bed I stretch my arms skyward hearing an ache relieving crack from my spine, for good measure I twist from side to side furthering the cracking noise. My deep inhale fills me with energy enough to make my way arduously to the high-tech style Capital bathroom, the floors going from the smooth wood to bone chilling whitewash tiles.

During my three days trapped here I mastered the art of washing my face. Strange concept that I'm not extremely familiar with, it's far different here than in the slums of District 5. I'm used to taking an old rag and dipping it in a bucket of fresh rain water with the intent of scrubbing my skin raw until my apricot skin tones show through. Here I complicate the process by turning a knob for hot water, selecting the proper form of loofa, dabbing on enough soup, and picking out an intoxicating scented oil to complete my clean face with a fresh odor.

Yeah. That's how ridiculous my life has become. After my face smells like a pasture of roses I hop in the shower and twist another metallic knob releasing a down pour of steamy hot water. My hope that the initial heat would wake me up proves to be false and the warm torrent does nothing aside from enveloping me in heat, not that I can really complain.

My eyes shut when my head gets a good dousing of water and even after I move my head from underneath the showerhead I keep them closed. For some reason I lose my footing and find my ass on the floor of the shower, but for an even stranger reason I don't care. Within a few moment I've situated myself so that I'm comfortably laying down with a makeshift washcloth pillow. Using my foot I twist the heat knob a little more and the scalding water sends me to a hazy bliss of euphoria.

I peek at my wiggling toes and find them fading in out of my vision swelling in size twice the normal size and shrinking until they're so small I can't see them. Back and forth they go. A few black spots start to cover up my toes so I shake my head around praying the leave me alone they don't until I hit my head against the wall everything goes black.

"David? David! Oh my God, you idiot! Corvet he's in here!" a round familiar face is shaking me. Her hair is really pretty it's brown and the water's dripping off in all over my face, I can't help but giggle. Suddenly the warm liquid falling from the ceiling stops.

"What the hell is wrong with you David I mean really? Come on man, we don't need this type of distraction on interview day, you only have an hour before we're to be called up." a high pitched voice is screeching at me, I hear the tones but not really the words, sounds pissed though. The next thing I realize is that both of them are throwing fuzzy towels at me shouting that I need to 'cover up' and that I'm 'naked and pruney'.

"What's going on guys?" I try to focus in on the faces that much like my toes from early seem be repeatedly supersized and miniscule. Instinctively I grab the towels and start sopping myself up.

"You've gotta be kidding me? Is he on some drug?" the girl who was shaking me looks away rolling her eyes with a tint of disappointment.

"Zeebee, why don't you go grab Chimera and get into your dress, I'll take care of David and meet you down in the lobby in a half hour, we'll leave for the interviews from their. Understand?" her voice goes by so fast that I can't quite catch what she's saying. I tilt my head to side and hear a popping noise as my ears drain.

As told the girl who was shaking me leaves without another word and I don't remember where I am, or what's going on for that matter. I recall being in bed and ripping the cord from the wall and then standing up. Now I'm in my personal shower? Once again I take the towel and rub on my eyes trying to actually wake myself up. I'm so confused and in the Capital confused isn't a good thing.

"Hey." it's all I can come up with to initiate a conversation with who I believe to be Corvet, she's still a little fuzzy but I'm pretty sure that it's her. Who else, aside from Zeebee apparently, would barge into my bathroom? Oh wait, that's right! Nearly anyone! I'm still trapped in the tribute tower.

"Hey? You skip a meal, ignore us all day, disappear for 3 hours and all you can say is 'hey'?" now completely in focus Corvet's face is crumpled in an angry snarl of malice. It's gotten to the point in which she's so frustrated that she can't scream or yell she's almost dead quiet. Once she finishes talking she stands up burying her face in her hand until she peeks down and my damp form with a look of disgust.

"Hey, I'm sorry?" I raise my hands palms up and make a sideways smirk hoping to just play everything off as some joke. We both know that my feeble attempt was worthless as she huffs and shifts her hair from her face.

"Look David, it's my job to make you or Zeebee come home." she pauses for a moment to collect her thoughts. "I'm trying so hard to stay grounded and make sure that my energy is in the right place regarding you two." again she takes an extra breath before continuing "But I can't do this alone. I'm accustomed to handling one tribute and inevitably watching them die in the bloodbath, I can't do that this year. I have both of you, which doubles my workload makes my job that my tougher, and I don't think I can deal with seeing you starve or freeze because you can't get sponsored since you bombed your interview."

When she finishes I look down to avoid making any eye contact. I'm plagued by a sense of remorse as she talks and for once I don't know why. I understand that this day hasn't gone by exactly how she wanted but she's the one who chose to spend time with Zeebee and ignore me.

"Corvet you think this is all about you and what you have to live through, well hate to break it to you but it's not. This entire thing is about killing me: who's going to do it, when is it going to happen, and how will my end come." when I speak I can hear my own tones of underlying anger and bitterness so I give myself a moment's respite to calm down and redirect my train of thought. "If this interview is so important to you then I'll do better than anyone else, Zeebee, Sterling, Vladimir, and Rosco included. Trust me I can do this." once it's clear that I'm done talking she gives me a quizzical look.

"Who are they?" she accuses me with a skeptical glare and a raised eyebrow of curiosity. I never did tell her exactly what I spent my time doing during training.  
The first day of course as everyone else I was figuring out what my role was within this group of 24 and memorizing names and districts. No matter what anyone says, training or not, the first thought that they felt when we were all forced together was something along the lines of 'oh shit I'm going to die', because most of us will. All but one. So to ensure I'm that one I put together the best alliance possible.

As my unfiltered mouth previously spilled I have a four way alliance with the best guys I could come up with. Sterling was obviously my first choice seeing as how he's the son of peacekeeper with a knack for swordplay. Once I started talking to him I got past his physical attributes are realized that he'll be the biggest sucker of the Games, he's a protector not a killer. If someone runs at me he'll jump in the way with a fierce look and a valiant idealized view of the Hunger Games.

Then there's Rosco and Vladimir. They're both decent guys, met them at the gauntlet. Our times were faster than most of the careers and aside from the redhead from 7 and the maniac from 4 no one even came close to my personal record. It was a small conversation from strangers to saviors. Rosco is smaller and weaker than am I so if need be I could kill him in a heartbeat. Vlad would be more of a challenge but he was pissing off Zane from 1 so God only knows if he's going to be on the target list this year.

"They're a couple of guys I met in training that have my back." I purposely avoid eye contact because I already know her expression would be disgusted with me. She specifically told me not to make alliances with anyone, not sure why but I suspect that it was to give Zeebee another advantage over me, not that I'm worried about her or anything. I turned her down for a reason and that's because she's too wishy-washy with her ethics. You can't be a real contender and not know who you are.

"Dammit David. What the hell! You're the type of tribute that people will eat up in the arena! Have you ever wondered why I've been acting as both your mentor and stylist as well as Zeebee?" her charcoal eyes dart from mine to a spot in the wall, she obviously doesn't want to talk about this. "It's because your real mentors are too busy playing with morphling in the alleys of Panem to think about how to get you home." a few moments of thick silence drench the tone of the room and I struggle to find the right words to find, I went from passed out in a shower to being lectured about death in 5 minutes, right about now is when I have to activate my charisma to make something happen in my favor for once.

Calmly I reach out the tub and grab her hand locking her eyes in mine. "I'm sorry, I didn't know any of that. This has been just as traumatic for me as it's been difficult for you. We can do this Corvet, step by step. Starting with the interviews tonight and the bloodbath tomorrow." I rotate my thumb on her palm and sense the blood pulsing through her hand slow down to a normal level. "Think about it this way, once this is all over with next year I can help you get through all this and everything will work out." even with her pulse lowered her hand still shakes.

"Ok. You know what you have to do then right? The car leaves in a half hour for the interviews and you need to be ready. I already laid out some clothes already." she yanks her hand away and walks out the room wiping her eyes, she doesn't turn back to face me but I know that I've done my job and she trusts me. Any sponsors that District 5 gets will go straight to me.

Once she's completely out of my sight I finish toweling myself off, apparently I'm the only one who cared that I was still naked and passed out in a shower, no big deal right? The fight for my life tomorrow is more important isn't it? I can't afford to be scared at this time, other tributes can smell fear, and so can an audience.

Finally I'm dry and walk back into my room noticing it's the same as I left it when I waltzed into the shower, or as far as I can remember, except for a long sleeve silk black button up with bright pearl cufflinks, matching black pants, a vest as bright as electricity, and a tie to match. It's all very classy and very me. I can work this something serious.

In my allotted half hour I shave what little stubble I get and tried to make myself look as good as possible; I probably brushed my teeth a half dozen times. Eventually though I slipped into my outfit and made my grand appearance to Corvet, Zeebee, and the prep crews, as it so turns out they were waiting for me. I entered the main room on my floor and find a sea of skeptical looks and judgemental glares, clearly I'm not that popular right now. But when I see Corvet she gives me a curtly smile and a reassuring nod.

Without a word everyone files from the room towards the elevator and they shove Zeebee and I in first paired with no one aside from Corvet, it would seem as though our prep teams will be meeting us there or not at all. I really couldn't care less, while it may be cold hearted that's just how I feel right now. I want nothing to do with any of these people; and tonight they're going to make me grovel for attention and beg for assistance.

We get in a car and suffer through an awkward 20 minute ride of perfect silence and the only glance I spare at Zeebee proves that both of us are trying our best to find the right words for these interviews.

A quick halt signals out immediate exit and the flashing of cameras and the assault screaming of fans begin. With a smile noticeably forced on my face I walk head held high to the doors and follow the proper authorities to the tribute waiting area. Zeebee stays hot on my trail and once we get to the room she bolts for Labute and the to sit down and start talking, oblivious to the rest of the world. Similarly to her I find my allies and greet Sterling with a handshake.

"Hey man, what's going on?" Sterling asks me cheerily with his naturally warm tone and friendly grin.

"Trying to focus on cycling through questions I might get asked. How long do we have anyway?" I'm not in the mood for chit chat and I'm sure through my body language and uninterested demeanor he can tell so he responds very professionally and quickly.

"Hamilton gets lead on in about a minute and then each of us get 5 minutes of airtime. So you have about 40 minutes until you're in the hot seat." he has this weird military sound and sometimes I think he's about to call me sir, other times I think he would punch me if it weren't for his romanticized view of friendship.

Thunderous applause explodes a few moments after he finishes and Hamilton is prancing across stage waving her arms pleasantly wearing a little black dress. Caesar is standing ready to embrace her with a handshake. His signature color this year is bright red, it looks like someone just bled all over him and he rubbed it in, but who am I to say what's hot and what's not in the Capital.

"Good evening Hamilton! Welcome!" Flickerman has his typical energetic aura and same as every year the interviews are a foot. I couldn't care less about her so naturally I tune her out and try to make idle chit chat with the boys and show a little interest in their lives, and preserving them so long as it's beneficial to me.

"Rosco Vlad good to see the both of you." I nod at my allies and they return my gesture,

"Same with you David, you worried at all?" Vlad gives me a nudge to the side and I contemplate punching him in the throat but i resist because he has an interview same as myself.

"Not really, but I do have to pee, I can't risk taking a piss on stage." everyone laughs at me recognizing my joke and easing the tension. Eventually though Rosco pipes up.

"It's over there" he points to the hallway "and to the right." Rosco's tiny pale arm directs me and I thank him with the typical you're welcome response. He shakes his blonde locks from his green eyes and somehow I know that he's telepathically telling me that he's about to have a panic attack, poor kid; he's only 13 years old. I refuse myself to get sympathetic and stub my thoughts right there.

As I leave the group Hamilton leaves the stage and Zane makes his way up to begin his interview, looking cocky in a sky blue suit and black scarf. Before I realize it I'm at the bathroom turning the cold steel knob. The tiles are the same as my bathroom, I suppose this is what's in style right now, God forbid that something be out of date.

Truth be told I lied about having to pee, I just had to get away from it all for a few moments. I walk over to the mirror and see my own reflection. My brown hair spiked in the front to reveal my matching brown eyes. I looks good by anyone's standards but I don't feel like a million bucks. I feel like I need to barf. I can't call it being nervous but I'm scared. Scared of screwing everything up and dying.

The reaction that Corvet had earlier in the day frightens me. Is this really so important that it'll be the death of me? I can't die, I just can't! I'm only 16 years old and barely started to understand my life! With the sink rushing cold water I begin to splash my face repeatedly. I need to gain my life back, I need to hit reset and force someone to volunteer for me, there's no way that this is happening! If I bomb this will I really die?

I sink to my knees and crawl beneath the sinks as I hear and intercom call for Zophia on the stage. My hands rip at my shaggy hair but I can't feel pain. I'm numb to the physical torture that I can't seem to inflict. My stomach begins to convulse and I fight the urge to cry. I miss what I used to have, my normal life, with my normal mother, and my normal day to day survival life story. It can't end now.

Much to my dismay the contents of my stomach are launched across the floor and I dare a few tears to falls. The only movement I can bare to make is moving my arms to bury my face and hide my fear, I have to look strong and resolute at a time like this. A high pitched whining blocks erases another one of my senses as the tears stop. Suddenly a towel falls in on my knees and I look up at the eyes of the person who supplied my saving grace.

I look up and see no one other than Xzander with his arms crossed and if I'm my blurred vision is correct a tinge of sympathy in his mahogany spheres. I'm probably hallucinating but I take his outstretched hand and rise back up to the sink to complete the spillage of everything I ate in the past 24 hours.

"Get it together." that's all he says as the door slams behind him.

I heed his advice as Juniper is called for her interview taking the towel and mopping up the tears that escaped and all the vomit that landed on my pants. For the last time I splash myself with a cold blast of water and smile feeling a revival of energy. I glance in the mirror and see that I look equally as handsome as before but with a better attitude, I walk out with my head held high with no sign of a tear every falling.

I'd like to thank Xzander but he's walking on stage for his interview. Sterling approaches me and asks me if I'm alright since I was gone for so long but I brush him off a focus on the interviews for once.

"Well Xzander I must say that you are something impressive this year!" Flickerman strokes the careers ego even more.

"Thanks, but I'm not surprised I'd stand out among a crowd of anyone because I'm different, no one can peg me down." he falls back into the chair as relaxed as I was this morning in bed.

"Isn't that the truth folks!" he looks at the audience and they respond with screaming, shouting, and jeering of admiration. "So, Xzander how confident are you, what makes you think that you can win?"

"Well Caesar not trying to sound rude but that's a dumb question. I'm the perfect example of a tribute. I'm strong, fast, determined, and I'm ready to get out there and kill people." the room goes silent.

"Well certainly there must be something that you're afraid of." Caesar purposely poses his question to make Xzander seem more humanized.

"The only thing I could think of would be not being sponsored enough water to quench my thirst after hunting someone down." he ends his comment with a chuckle and smiles jovially at the audience deflating the cruel tension in the room.

"Why did you volunteer? Was it for the typical reasons?"

"I don't think you can call anything about me typical, I volunteered for no reason aside from the fact that the world needs to know who I am, and this is my best chance of making easy money." he does sound confident and his charm is oozing from him. He was made for crowds like this.

"I've got one final question for you: how does it feel to be one of the biggest contenders this year?" and there he goes back to stroking his ego like a narcissistic douche.

"It feels good. People notice my presence when I walk in a room and these people give me all sorts of glares and scared looks. Yeah it makes me a target but it also means people are afraid of me, and fear is the best weapon I have right now. So before anyone of them thinks that they know me they should go over everything that they've ever seen me do before making a judgement call."

Somehow I know this is directed at me and I know that he's getting inside my head. I don't think I can actually come to a solid conclusion about him anymore. I also don't know how I'll be able to kill him, I owe him. I don't understand how but that moment in the bathroom I'll cling to until the moment I die, many year from now. He gets off stage and Zeebee takes off.

Caesar asks the standard barrage of questions. "What was your initial reaction to being reaped? What's it like knowing your sister had training? How confident are you?" I'm disgusted when she responds with nothing but short one word answers. It might be part of her plan to continue to zip through the competition unnoticed, or maybe she's really trying to seem as dull as possible. But once she stands up I'm given slight nudge.

Shit it's my turn. I start walking and Zeebee gives me a nod as we walk by. Once I break free of the waiting room bright spotlights blast my face with the golden rays of a Capital television show. I force myself to smile and focus on not tripping and busting my ass on the way up the chairs while at the same time appearing relaxed and acknowledging the audience of hellish freaks.

Flickerman greets me with a handshake and perfect pearly white smile, it matches my cufflinks to a tee, I wonder if the same bleaching tactics are used on teeth as well as jewelry. His grip is clammy and awkward as he envelops my hand.

"So David, an 8 in training! That's quite impressive for someone with no formal training! How did you do it?" he motions for me to sit and the room falls quiet waiting for my response. I could tell the truth about how I grabbed a giant axe and smashed as many dummies as I could, or I could stay mysterious and leave them wanting more.

"Oh ya know, running around, jumping, the like. I do have a few tricks up my sleeve but I can't spoil anything yet for my unsuspecting victims." granted it's my voice I know that what I said was to feed the audience, it's all about them right now.

"Aaahhh I see, keeping your secrets are we." he winks at the audience eliciting a laugh from everyone in the room. "Now tell me it there anyone special back home?" he leans back in his chair and I fear that I'm losing his interest, and it's only been a minute! I can't let this opportunity slip through my fingers.

"I prefer not to think about something as dull as home when I have something as exciting as the Games in less than a day." I lean forward intensely staring out into the ocean of judgemental eyes.

"Whoa! David! Quite the throw down! I have to ask, what do you think you could fare against one of the more trained tributes, say Xzander or Hamilton?" Dammit. He had to ask about Xzander. Anyone but him. I do nothing but stare and feel time tick by, fighting to find a response I say the first thought that comes to mind and regret it the moment I speak.

"I'm not worried about a crazy bulldog and his pack of bitches. Besides they're all bark and no bite. They're all softies and I know that I'll have no issue offing them." Fuck. Who the hell taunts the careers on national television? Dumbasses who want to die, that's who!

I swallow a lump that unnoticeably formed in my throat while I was talking and the sweat from my forehead nervously drips off my eyebrow as I await for a response. A few seconds tick by over an eternity and the crowd is on their feet cheering for me and screaming shouts of admiration. I guess the only thing better than a pack of murderers, is the person who's not afraid to call them out.

"Settle down everyone haha, we are certainly having a good time here tonight! Thank you David, you are something!" eventually the crowd obeys him and the retake their seats eagerly craneing to hear me say something else. "I've only got one thing left. Think hard before you answer, but David what type of tribute are you? Are you really a hunter?"

I'm taken aback and fall deeper into the chair, cycling through words in my mind trying to put something together in a full and meaningful sentence. But nothing comes to mind and all I can do is lower my head in shame. I'm not a hunter, I'm a survivor who's going to do anything to fight for my life.

"Caesar. All I can see is, you'll have to watch me every step of the way and you can decide for yourself." he releases a meaningful huff of air and the audience politely claps for as the buzzer signals my safety from the cameras.

"David everyone!" he grabs my hand and flings it skyward earning my last round of applause. I leave the stage proud of my façade and faux conviction. I've done my job, whether it's who I am or not isn't my problem.

Tamarac walks past me with a scowl on her face. Once I'm back in the waiting room I shrug past everyone and walk outside. I know the way back to tribute tower, it's the highest building within miles. So within an hour I arrive back to what I have to call home earning looks of curiosity. A tribute alone? Unheard of! Well fuck all of you.

A few peacekeepers approach me but I snarl and tell them I'm a tribute so they'd better not touch me, one goes so far as telling me where the elevator is. What a prick. Yet I follow his instructions from my own will and nothing more. He can't tell me what to do anymore. No one can, I'm untouchable by the Capital until the day I come back.

Back in the familiar lift I press the button taking me to the highest floor of the building, the roof. I step out towards the edge of the building and gaze out across the streets. The interview building is just now filing the tributes out and I can hear the screams and shouts of people who will never understand what they're cheering for.

It'd be easy, to jump. Take a stand by taking a fall. But life's not easy, so I can't take that route. I have too much love for my parents to even think about that, and once I get back home I'm going to remember this moment and laugh at how I needed to reach the edge of death to really live.

Everyone better watch out. I'm back, and it doesn't get better than this.

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**once again thank you for reading and please review!**

**-much love**


	7. Only Getting Started

and behold the bloodbath told from the resident psychopath :) in real life this was certainly the scariest and more nerve wracking part of the games! I hope you like it!

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From the point of view of Xzander

"Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn the power of man."

William Shakespeare

Shooozoop. My glass tube closes, sealing me to the fate I've chosen for my enemies. Darrin gives me a small nod telling me that he has some level of faith in me. He's been a good mentor, soft spoken and open to suggestion. Much appreciated, it made my stay in the Capital far more grounded and enjoyable, I guess. Ominously I start to rise from the ground and my pulse rockets with adrenaline and excitement. Sunshine blasts through the small skylight and pierces my chestnut hair. It's warm and sunny, weather won't be an issue this year. Such a shame, I was hoping to find a tribute freezing to death, it's always been my personal favorite.

I've trained my entire life for this moment. The games are finally about to begin and I couldn't be more excited. Up to this point I've played the perfect game I really have; got a high training score and showed how bloody I really am in the interviews, people don't forget things like that. But standing here on my little pedestal makes everything just a little more real. The cornucopia is a lot smaller than it has been in other games, but it's just as packed. I can already see knives, swords, and plenty of food scattered about, eagerly taunting the less intelligent tributes to risk running into the fray I intend to dominate.

It looks like the games are set in a pleasant field, or at least the bloodbath is. A few trees here and there but were in a circle separating each tribute by maybe 15 feet. Directly in front of me, which my internal compass says is west lies the cornucopia. But beyond that I see nothing but a drop off and the same to the south. Directly behind me to the east are a couple premade trails no doubt a Capital trap that lead into an area dominated by pricker bushes and tree. The only thing visible to the north is a forest landscape. My focus is broken by the sound of the countdown.

I hear the first tone and can't find the count down clock anywhere, a minor detail that some brain dead capitalite forgot. I guess that means that I'll have to just keep track of the beeps on my own, after all it's always been 60 seconds. No more no less.  
To my left I see Uraburus cockily standing their with his arms cross. I flash back to the training scores, after all Uraburus is one of the two people who actually managed to beat my score. I was happy with my 9, my sword skills and sadism had earned me my proper respect. But what could he have done to earn him a 10. How does a tribute from district 7 get a 10 in training?! Let alone a small lanky ginger. Count number 15, 16, 17, about 40 second left. This can't go by fast enough. I hate this, being trapped it's like a cage and any decent beast knows you can't be contained for too long without outlashing, give me the chance to do something!

More pressing than being stranded or Uraburus is the boy from 6. He beat everyone and got an 11! But I completely understand why, he's strong, social, and fast. Whatever training he did get was clearly top notch and he must've taken it extremely serious, he's ever worse than the careers! At least I know who I am; a blood thirsty genius, he's in denial. Of all the tributes in this arena his death will be the one I look forward to causing the most. But I'll make sure it's slow. After all I have to please the Capital they expect the best from District 4 and I will do them justice. Count number 26, 27, 28 halfway there.

To my immediate right is a tribute I got to know very well in training. His name is Nathaniel, tall enough to reach my nose -barely. Tan skin, piercing hazel eyes, and what can only be described as a wanna-be mustache. He's fast I'll give him that and I saw his true knife skills come out. But he trusted every word I said when we made an "alliance". Typical of a district 10 to be so trusting, not everyone is a farm-raised hick. His biggest mistake. However I won't kill him unless he's the last one or he attacks another career. But he will die. No doubt, and I intend to do it. Count number 34, 35.

One down from him is a little girl, little worry there, without a second thought I flip my head the other way and beyond Uraburus is Oakland the joke from 12. Everyone knows they lose every year for a reason and he's no different. Average height with a stocky build and blonde bangs hiding his face from the world. He looks afraid. I hope that one day I can make his fears a reality. Count 39, 40.

Dammit, this is so fucking obnoxious I just want to move! I'm stuck on this tiny little platform it's torture just let me start hacking everyone to pieces! I feel a twinge of fear rush over me once I realize all of the other careers are on the exact opposite side. Zane is next to Juniper next to Zophia, and Hamilton is next to Whitacre! I'm literally stranded on the far side. Makes this an uphill battle from the start, wouldn't have it anyother way. This fight was made for me. It was made for my highlight reel. Count 46 47 almost, so close.

My breathe buckles just a little bit and I know that I'm thinking way too much my anxiety is going to get the best of me at this rate. My pulse is skyrocketing and my palms don't sweat like this. I'm supposed to be the calm killer not the psychotic freak. I slip my hand in my pocket and of course my inhaler is nowhere to be found, calm down, easy thoughts. After all I've proven that I'm going to kill everyone but that doesn't make me crazy. I just need to move. Please! Count 51, 52, 53.

~BEEEEEEEP~

Wait. What the hell?! Was that the gong?! A few people are moving. Why am I still standing still? Nows my chance! Pounce for goodness sake! My legs immediately connect to my mind and I spring off my platform. I can tell I wasn't the only person caught off guard some people are still minding their business standing on their platforms. Eventually I do being my sprint, but it's not good enough Uraburus is already in the cornucopia and he's got a spear.

I can feel a breeze coming up from my right flank and I know that it must be Nathaniel few other tributes could catch up to me with so much ease, I never said I was the fastest but I'm not slow by any means. I decide to take the easy route and swing my fist until it connects to his face and knocks him to the ground. He falls flat on his ass with a pleasant thud that fuels my adrenaline. After all this is it! I'm finally living the dream, and I just punched a kid!

I turn my head to double check and make sure he's on the ground and he is, spitting dirt out of his mouth. How pathetic, exactly what a simpleton from 10 deserves. I look back to the ever closer cornucopia and see that Uraburus isn't there anymore. But I can see his fiery mane dashing off into the woods. His speed kept him alive, but he can't run forever, nobody can. Eventually he'll meet his fate. The expression always goes you can run but you can't hide.

While my legs keep pumping I run through the game plan that I told all the careers to follow. Zane kill Vladimir, Zophia kill Zeebee, Juniper kill Kindler. Who was my target. I run through every tribute in my mind and recall the little girl from 10. Misery I think. She's even more psychopathic than any tribute I've seen in any past games. All her talk of killing careers in training put her on the radar. Time to snuff her out.

Wait a sec. Wasn't she the little girl on the other side of Nathaniel? There's no way I could've missed that! My first mistake, should've strangled her right then and there! My mental game will be more keen once I spill so blood.

Still in a full sprint I see a knife, shining in all it's murderous glory, sticking out of the ground, nothing I want to be stuck with in combat but it's better than being unarmed when I'm 10 feet from the cornucopia. I snatch it up and get into the mouth of the silvery horn. Greeted only by Tamarac, debatably the strongest girl in the games. She should have joined the careers when we offered. Being part of the only district who surpassed mine in terms of scores I have no reason to show any remorse or mercy to her. What's so special about her anyway, she's not me.

I begin to slow my pace enough only to jam the knife right into the center of her spine. She didn't even see me coming, hell she might not have even felt the knife as I cut her spinal cord but I don't care. The first kill is mine and it's bloody. The warm sticky goo follows my hand as rip it from her back, a few drops even splatter onto my face. Gives me focus. Her facial expression in one of shock as her mouth forms a perfect 'O' shape while her hands loosen her grip on axe, must've been her secret talent she kept from us. Little train girl liked axes. Pathetic.

I do realize that I'm just standing here now mentally gloating about the first death I caused. I have to get moving Misery she could be running away right now and tracking doesn't sound too fun. My eyes scan for something anything better than this knife. That's when I spot a trident, it might be cliche of a district 4 tribute but what the hell? I've trained with everything for a reason. As soon as my hand makes contact I know that it's my new favorite weapon. Both sturdy and deadly with three titanium prongs begging for blood. I'll kill everyone with it if I have to.

Once I turn around I see Zane with a club in his hands, his entire form is covered in blood and I know that he's as ready as I am to kill. We both nod and start running in opposite directions, with him covering my back I don't have anything to worry about. I spare just another second to start flipping my head around to find Juniper. She's guarding the cornucopia perhaps Kindlers already dead despite her strength and finesse. Either way as long as Juniper is alive I'll be ok. She's from back home, it's what I should do.

Regardless I see Misery running away from the bloodbath to the north with nothing but a backpack, if she reaches the woods then I'll lose her in chase so I have to make my move now. I dash in her direction and scream a paint peeling roar to get her attention. Sure enough her eyes find my and she knows that she's dead. Pupils dilated so big I can't tell where her irises are, I see fear, no I see a target. She's weaponless unless something is in her backpack but she doesn't have time to get anything out, I'm much too fast and powerful to give her that opportunity.

The next thing I realize is that my feet are facing the sky, my head is flying around in a summersault, and I have a throbbing pain in nose from where I was hit. That stupid brute Bennick is hovering over me and starts to swing a waterbottle at my head. He finds his target once again and I can feel the blood seeping from my nose this idiot doesn't know who he's messing with.

His expression was priceless as he realized who I was, it went from valiant hero with a feasible goal in mind to something along the lines of 'I am so screwed'. I'm not a defenseless tribute, I'm a trained killer armed with an actual weapon. He tried to back away before my foot connects with his stomach he releases a airy grunt.

"Bennick are you really still alive? Didn't know they let the pigs out of the pen today." my cocky joke makes him fidget where he stands petrified and frozen, I get up eye level with him. He's only 5 feet away and if he moves I can skewer him at any moment. He stares for a moment and gives me a winded look of ignorance.

"Well yeah. You see I figured-" he may have kept talking but this is where my ear turned off and my arm just shot forward. I took my trident and jammed in directly in his face. I pivot and twist around to my side and his corpse just flings off in some random direction. Looks like the district 3's out of the running this year. Me killing Bennick and Juniper's previous killing of Kindler, what a shame they had so much promise this year.

Misery isn't anywhere to be found, safe to assume she fled into the woods, and the only tributes remaining are those still fighting in the bloodbath, maybe I can get one more kill if I run fast 's exactly what I do. I take Bennick's water bottle and make towards the cornucopia with as much haste as I can muster. I can hear battle cries, screams of pain, and metal clanging against metal continuing my rush of adrenaline that hasn't failed me yet, why would it stop now?

As I approach the cornucopia I can see a few final tributes escaping with backpacks and weapons, Whitacre is on his knees screaming at a body, Juniper still in the same spot guarding the mouth of the cornucopia, and Zane going sword to spear with Nathaniel. Looks like the boy from 10 forgot our little agreement. I have no choice but to stay true to the pack, that's what's most important in here. Keeping my pack strong. For a moment I consider letting Zane take this one but I decide against it seeing as how everything in these games revolves around me.

Still closing the distance between Nathaniel and thoughts of Zophia and Hamilton flip across my conscious. My pack couldn't have already lost 2 members that's impossible I trained them better that this week! They must be chasing someone down or something. I silence the train of thought as I'm within arm's length of the last pair of fighting tributes at the bloodbath.

"Nathaniel I gave you one order and that was to run or fight non-careers." an arrogant smile glides across my face. I don't give him a moments respite as he faces his new assailant. With a furrow of my brow I take my three pronged weapon and pierce his skin. This kill isn't like my last 2, the initial stab doesn't completely off him and he screams in agony.

"What the hell Xzander! We had a deal." these are his last few grunts of life I figure I should delight in his pain. I examine his facial features of surprise and hatred, hopefully he learned his lesson, unfortunately it happened a little too late. My titanium prongs are the only thing preventing him from bleeding out on the spot so for kicks I twist the trident ever so slightly and coax another scream out the speedy little farm hand.

"We did but you attacked the wrong career." still holding him up a kick his legs out from beneath him and force him down on the ground. I plant my foot on his chest as I slowly tear the trident out of his flesh and the instant it's completely of him he falls completely limp nothing more than a lifeless lump. He could've been a real contender if he was a little smarter. But then again all three of my victims were legit threats to me and they needed to be taken out.

Guilt level? Haha, guilt. My ass!

"Zane how did things go on your end?" he's no longer holding his bloody club now he's just got a sword. He tosses the sword to the side in favor of the spear that Nathaniel's body has a death clench on. He pries it from Nathaniel's cold hands and I think I can even hear a finger crack, even in the afterlife that boy has some conviction, how poetic.

"Well I took out my target the skinny boy from 9. But other than that I was mostly intimidating the other tributes. After you killed Tamarac only a few came close to the cornucopia or ran through. But I got bored so I chased down some random girl and bashed her skull in." we both began walking towards the mouth of the cornucopia and to Juniper. I cut him off.

"Good work Zane you can listen. Juniper how did things go for you? Did you end Kindler?" she better have. If she didn't I would probably just kill her here and now but she's from back home so that's frowned upon heavily in district 4. We always team up and that's not changing now. Even if she was from a different district I'm not entirely sure I could do it, not because I like her or anything, but just because there's something about her that I haven't figured out yet and she can't be blessed with a grave until I uncover it.

"Just a sec, what's wrong with Whitacre?" Juniper completely deflected my question and pointed at Whitacre. His tiny form was hunched over the body of another tribute who I couldn't recognize. The three of us all waltzed over to him not in any particular rush. I looked over my shoulder twice and didn't see any movement whatsoever. A short bloodbath but still I got my point across, everyone in the Capital had to see me.

"I killed her." there was a knife to his side with a puddle of blood still seeping from this dead girls head. Whitacre never was like Zane or I but I know that he still wants to get home and he made clear his intent to kill everyone, all the careers did in training, we made it clear one of us will win, make that I will win.

He keeps sobbing until he has a mental snap and hunches over and embraces the corpse in a hug, it's extremely awkward. I like blood as much as the next guy but I'm not a necrophiliac. What tribute does he care so much about? I mean really he never really talked with anyone other than the careers in training aside from the ginger girl, I think her name was Flair, but that's not important.

Juniper being the kindest of all the careers grabs Whitacre and yanks him off the body, they both get covered in blood. Now all four of us are covered in the sticky substance, but I better have the most kills so far! I trained way to hard not to. Whitacre buried his face in Juniper's shoulder and refuses to end his high-pitched sobbing.

Clearly Zane is as bored with the situation as I am, he knelt down next to the body and rolled it face up. My heart stops as my breath buckles. I'm looking at my fellow career Hamilton. This little tiny boy from 2 actually turned his back on the careers and killed the girl from 1. Unbelievable.

My initial thought and the simple answer would be to just kill him now I spin my trident for good measure. I think if I throw it from so close it might accidentally hit Juniper too. She needs to let go of him and let me do my freaking job. I'm getting testy and this whole compassionate thing doesn't work for me. He's not a lost puppy he's a traitor and deserves the penalty that comes along with it.

"What the hell happened." I shout over his sobbing and instantly he knows he's got some explaining to do before his face ends up lighting up the sky tonight. Being down two allies isn't ideal but I can live through it.

It's hard to understand him between the hiccups and whiny tone but sure enough he gets his message across. He says that he "couldn't tell" who it was. Bull shit. I'm going to kill this child, he's only 14 and really has no real chance of winning I don't care how good he is with throwing knives.

"Ok Whitacre shut the fuck up. Seriously stop. We all want to win and frankly I'm not buying your shit." the only thing stopping from killing him right now is numbers; Zophia isn't anywhere and I need at least most of the pack alive. Juniper shoots me a pleading look and her brown eyes ooze enough mercy to calm my heart and trident long enough for me to temporarily cave, he still has work to do. "You've lost your weapon privileges, give me your knives I know you have some."

With my trident in his face and Juniper offering no other way out he reluctantly gives me all the throwing knives he has. But out of the goodness of my heart he can actually keep the sword, incase we get ambushed.

"Ok so let's get down to business. I killed the boy from 10, the boy from 3, and the girl from 6. What exactly did the rest of you do?" I need to get back on track and focus on the important things before I snap and break in a couple skulls.

"I killed my target and the black girl." Zane pipes up first as he attaches a few more spears to himself, and if I'm not mistaken he also has throwing knives on his wrist.

"That's good means you took out Vladimir, he's from 9 and the black girl must be from 11." So between Zane and I we got 5 that's a decent start for only two people.

"Her name was Willow, I met her at the knot tying station she wasn't very talkative, nice though." of course Juniper would take about how kind she was. "I couldn't actually find Kindler so I decided it would just be best to guard the cornucopia but" she hesitates for a moment to breathe "no one came close to me."

Dammit Juniper. She didn't kill a single person! Maybe my pack isn't as strong as I had originally hoped. Right now I've got a traitor, a deserter, a corpse, a whimp, and luckily a decent side kick. I'd put my money of myself killing Zane in the top two. But anything is possible, he could die far before then.

"So there's a total of 6. We must be one of the worst career packs ever. Uraburus is still running around and Sterling's alive. We have work to do." Granted it's only been ten minutes but I'm not extremely please with how things are going. I knew I'd have the most kills under my belt but I assumed that some other people would pitch in.

"We should probably leave the area so they can collect the bodies." Juniper smartly injects.

"Right. Don't want the smell of blood lingering in the air that doesn't help at all." Zane's satire coaxes a laughter out of myself and Whitacre. For someone who recently killed his ally Whitacre finds that to be a tad bit too funny.

"We can use this chance to look for Zophia I saw her chasing some people into the woods." Once again Juniper's intellect contributes to our game plan, this is why I want her alive: someone with a brain. We each grab a pack and whatever weapons we want.

When deciding what pack I want I systematically take foods that aren't perishable and plenty of water, I know at a moments notice I could be on my own and I don't want to have to rely on others. Aside from that I grab a decent length of rope, the largest first aid kit we have, and a few tubs of camouflaging paint. Not so much for use but more so for kicks. I open it and force all my hunters to apply war paint, it's a fun time and makes us all look more intimidating.

Juniper points to the trail she recalls Zophia running down and I lead the way armed with my trident and Whitacre's throwing knives. Immediately behind me Zane's pack if I saw right has mostly survival gear, a compass, netting, parchment, a plant I.D book, the like, but on him he's got a few spears and even more throwing knives. Without a doubt he and I will be the biggest killers I can tell we'll get along. I need to keep him alive as long as I can; he has all the traits of a perfect right hand man: he's deadly, fiercely loyal, and fun to be around. The only thing is he can't afford to do anything stupid.

Juniper has a sword that she swings around pleasantly. She packed mostly food and water with an extra knife slyly tucked in her belt. She's another one I'll hate killing if it comes down to it. She's smart, compassionate, and she listens to me when I talk. I mean that in a combative and personal way; she can take orders without being smug but still looks at me like a real human. She'd be a great friend if she didn't have to die, but I'll make hers swift.

Then bringing up the rear is the four foot menace. Whitacre. He's got two swords a pleasant grin across his face, and satchel with nothing in it but a tent, planning to escape? Guilty conscious? I guess I'll never know, not that it matters in the long run. Funny thing is people think that I'm cruel when this kid looks undeniably demented. As we walk he cuts down small saplings and hums some random tune I've never heard. I'll keep an eye on him.

But for now I've got 3 kills and 17 to go. As soon as I find Zophia the games will be mine.

* * *

I hope you liked it and I'll put a little tally of tributes who die every chapter when it's necessary please review!

so I have to say a few things about my dead friends

Tamarac (Kaitlyn) - everyone thought you could do it but I guess someone got to you before you had the chance

Vladimir (Eric) - bro! come on man! we spent so much time sword fighting and you get smashed at the bloodbath? shame.

Hamilton (Emily) - sorry that Whitacre betrayed you, it was because he thought you were going to backstab him

Bennick (Ben) - when I saw you get stabbed it looked like it hurt -a lot sucks to be you!

Willow (Sarah) - at least your pretty right?

Nathaniel (Nick) - I still don't understand why you thought that you could take Zane. I mean really? but whatever you're dead :P

-much love


	8. Regrets

so here's the less psychotic of the district 4 tributes, now that the bloodbath is over we get into the meat of the Games! nearly every chapter there'll be a death and things get legit real fast! enjoy!

* * *

From the point of view of Juniper

"Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries.

Without them, humanity cannot survive."

Dalai Lama

I've been in the damned arena only 15 minutes and I already hate my life. No, let me clarify I don't hate my life. I hate what it's becoming. It's one thing to train to kill teenagers but it's another to actually go through with it, I had a few chance but I couldn't do it.

~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~BOOM~

Six? Six fallen. Six that won't ever see the sun again, or taste water, or feel the breeze on their face. It's sad but I tell myself it has to happen. It has to happen for me, for my sister, and frankly it happens to all of us eventually. The bloodbath truly was the worst thing I've ever experienced.

I remember the blast of the gong. I remember the sprint in. But those things I'll forget by tomorrow morning. What I won't forget is the fear I felt and the fear I instilled in that poor girl.

There were a few people who beat me to the cornucopia. Of course Xzander did, Sterling, Uraburus, and a few other kids. But once I was in there I grabbed a sword and started swinging. Some tributes saw me standing there and ran. A girl named ZeeBee or Z.B. or whatever it is saw me and turned the other way. Her man candy Labute was running right along with her. The pair each had a weapon, her battle axe and a spear for him, probably could've killed me if they wanted to, but they didn't because I had a four on my shoulder. I felt powerful for having the title 'career'.

Funny how that little word makes me someone to watch. Sure I've trained, a lot, but I'm not psychotic. I'm normal same as most of the other tributes. Take Willow for example, she was so nice to me when we were tying knots. No one paid any attention to her for no reason from the fact that she wasn't from 1, 2, or 4, and because she wasn't mentally jacked up. How twisted is this world where kindness is a weakness? Although, she's dead. Maybe that's not the best comparison.

There was another girl named Phynex, from 12, who ran straight into the cornucopia while I was standing there. It would have been an easy kill. Not bloody or showy, but efficient and that's what matters. She looked me right in the eye and stopped in her tracks. We shared a moment, I don't know what else to call it. But I lowered my sword and she ran past grabbing a backpack and a knife in the process. She had her pick of the remaining weapons and she grabs a knife. I guess that's her own decision and who knows she could end up winning. As she ran away her ginger locks bounced in the air as she escaped untouched and alive because I refused to do anything. I'll never forget the sight of her lime green backpack disappearing into the woods. I tell myself the next time I see her it'll be different but then again I probably won't see her again.

But I can't linger over things of the past I have to keep my mind on top of things, it's a weapon all its own. Even though the games just began I'm already on Xzander's hit list. I didn't kill Kindler like I was supposed to. But I mean really she was on the other side of the cornucopia and by the time I had my sword she had a knife and ran down the same trails that I'm walking now.

Compared to some Hunger Games this arena is almost pleasant, which makes me even more paranoid that the Capital has a plan up their sleeve. The trees are lush and green, the breeze is gentle and fresh, and the sun isn't too over bearing. I guess the arena won't be a huge killer if things stay like this. Typically a few people starve, or freeze, or catch an infection or something. I'm not going to complain though it's like a nice summer day in District 4, minus the miles of pristine ocean of course but I'm sure we'll find some body of water.

I wish Zophia would pop out of the woods claiming 2 kills and the hovercrafts could remove all the deceased tributes so I could go back to camp. I'm not weak by any means necessary but I don't like feeling so exposed and leaving the cornucopia unguarded. After all, we didn't keep every weapon. Who knows how many tributes are armed and could ambush us. Maybe not kill us but whenever the careers get ambushed in the past there's always a casualty.

"Look what I found!" Xzander's voice rings out from 20 feet ahead of me and he's knelt down examining the ground. He knows I'm a better tracker but I assume his pride won't let him admit it. "There are 3 different sets of footprints. I'm willing to bet that a pair belongs to Zophia." I look ahead of the tracks and notice the fork in the road.

"Well who's going where?" I'd rather split up and make it harder to kill all of us at once. After all we were the ones cocky enough to not accept any other tributes from the other districts. Tamarac rejected us and we didn't even ask Sterling or David. Either way it's harder to keep track of two people as opposed to the four of us arrogantly tramping through the woods.

"Juniper you're with me, Zane take Whitacre." Lucky me. I get stuck with my questionably psychotic district partner. My luck is unparalleled today. May the odds be ever in your favor? My ass.

Xzander leans closer to Zane and whispers some unintelligible words and the nod at each other then bust out laughing. There's no way they'd be pulling a stunt so soon? They still need Whitacre and I! Especially with Zophia missing and Hammi dead. Right? I didn't become expendable since I didn't kill anyone, did I? I'd be easy prey for Xzander and Zane would find it funny. No, they wouldn't do that, it's against how we're supposed to operate! Every career who survived to become a mentor preached pack loyalty, that's how this has to work for me. They can't do this to me now, they wouldn't.

My fellow careers disappear to the left following the trail as told by our apparent leader while he takes off leaving me stranded in the crux of the trails. Part of me wants to turn and run back to the cornucopia screaming that I have to take a piss but that'd be me a lying bitch, which is another thing I can't do to Xzander. He's the key to my survival.

"Come on Juniper! We gotta get going." he motions to me as we rush off the trail that appears to lead farther into the forest. The other trail leads to a very bland and open field, much harder to be ambushed in a field but his pride won't let him take the easy route.

After a good 15 minutes of silence and hiking we find nothing and the trail begins to diminish to the point where I'm not sure if this is part of the trail. We're lost. God the tributes from 4 lost in the woods. We're pathetic, I wouldn't be surprised if a tribute from 11 or 10 jumped out and slashed my throat.

"Do you smell that?" Xzander's nose perks up and stops where he stands. I take a deep whiff of air and smell nothing but the trees. It's quite refreshing actually, a solitary moment of peace amongst a slaughter of innocence. i reply to his question with nothing more than an obvious look of confusion. I'm not going to feed whatever attention he thinks his charm deserves.

"Copper. Iron. The metallic tinge of blood." he starts breathing heavily and his head begins to swivel as he frantically fights to discover the blood that probably doesn't exist. I figured he'd go off the deep end, it's a given, but not after an hour. I was hoping to get a few days out of his better side.

"Here it is!" he practically screams at me. I don't think I've seen him this excited. Yet once I walk over to him, sure as he said there's trace of blood on a jack and the pulpit plant. He gives me a high five and gestures for me to take the lead.

"Because we both know I'm the best tracker right?" I chastise him with a wink, to which he lowers his head and smiles. It's the closest thing I've gotten to validation and I'm not going to complain.

"Oh shut up. I want to get this over with and I think that you should pull your weight." typical Xzander his velvet voice counters me again. Can't let me have even a single joke over on him? But it's ok, he did find the blood to begin with.

Once I have the start of the trail it's nothing more than being observant and the poor tribute will be ours. A bloody handprint on a tree tell me we're going the right way. Shoe prints are becoming closer and closer together telling me that someone is suffering from blood loss and lack of consciousness.

Knowing Xzander he'll want to torture the poor tribute until they beg for death that's his style. I won't let him make a fool of the District, if I have to I'll kill the tribute. Nobody deserves to have such terrible things done to them on live television. Especially when there's no chance they'll survive. That's when I see it.

"Look there" with a whisper I point to a leg sticking out from behind a tree. Both Xzander and I ready our weapons poised to kill. Based on the clean shaven leg this is clearly a girl. With 3 fingers raised in the air we creep closer to our prey, better get a cannon ready.

I risk a moment to mouth the words "she's mine" to my partner and he seems to understand the message taking a step back keeping his trident in an offensive position should things go poorly.

I can do this. No, wait I can't. No Juniper shut the hell up and do it! I'm ready for this. Trained my life to make this moment possible. Killing another teenager. No not even a teenager a random face keeping me from home, I will see my sister again, I have to. With a deep breathe I charge forward with my blade first.

The moment my gaze rolls around the tree I stop my sword from making contact. Laying on the ground in front of me, bleeding out nonetheless, is Zophia. Her leg hosts a bloody puncture wound probably from a spear. In her hand she holds a quarterstaff, her weapon of choice -and it's bloody.

"Oh my God! Zophia what happened to you!" at the mention of her name her head perks up and she smiles. Xzander hastily makes his way next to her falls to the ground dropping his trident and grabs her hand.

"You're going to be ok Zoph. I promise you." Xzander is actually comforting her? What the hell man? Make up your damn mind. Are you an unstable killer or a suave gentlemen? "Juniper dig through my pack I know there's some medicine in there."

Without question or comment I do as he says still in awe that I nearly killed my ally. I dump the contents of his pack on the ground spilling water, food, rope, and a few cans of camouflage paint. It's not until I open up every pocket that I find a canister of healing salve.

"The Capital makes the best meds, this should heal her up in a matter of days if not overnight." I hand the salve to Xzander who smiles back at me. Right now he reminds me of the boy I met at the reaping, he was polite and had a tinge of humanity with him.

"Thank you Juniper. Can you hand me that rope?" I do what he says. "Zophia bite down on this it'll help with the immediate shock of the meds ok?" the blood crazed maniac is actually a soft nurse? So bipolar, I don't understand him.

"Ok." she sounds so weak. Weak and scared. Those are 2 things that in this arena can kill. I wouldn't be surprised if Xzander snapped her neck here and now.

"On the count of three." he has one hand in hers and another poised to apply to life saving medication. "One. Two. Three." his hand starts rubbing the ointment and Zophia's jaw immediately clenches down on the rope.

"Thank you that feels nice." such few words for a girl who usually can't shut up, it's a nice change of pace. I have to admit though out of the remaining 4 careers she's probably the one I'll chum up to she's ditzy and nice.

"We need to hurry back to Whitacre and Zane." I nudge the both of them and they nod in agreement. I pack up the gear strewn across the forest floor while Xzander puts Zophia on his shoulders with as little pain as possible.

"Wait" it's Zophia struggling to speak "What about Hammi?" her hazel eyes find mine and my stomach flips. She doesn't know who passed at the bloodbath. I can only shake my head no. Due to either the pain or the bad news she shuts her eyes and we take off.

I'm not quite sure how he does it but Xzander traces the exact trail we took back to the fork we left Zane at. We don't waste anytime continuing to the cornucopia still golden with glory. It's a strange thing to notice but the fallen tributes are still laying around. The Capital should have gotten them by now. They always do.

Zane and Whitacre pop out of the forest 60 yards down from where we do and hustle over to us clearly interested in Zophia's condition.

"Don't worry Whitacre she's alive." he has a nervous look painted on his face, clearly from seeing his district partner on the verge of death. "I think she'll pull through if we take it easy today." he appears to be very comforted by my words. I hope that I'm helping the situation.

"So we took a detour and made a makeshift map of the trails that interweave back there. It's insane they're all interconnected." Zane hands a piece of parchment to Xzander who pockets it as though he didn't think it was important.

"We'll finish it tomorrow, right now Zophia is our first concern. I want camp set up before it gets-" I interrupt Xzander

"Why're there still bodies lying around? Shouldn't they have been taken by now?" Everyone stares at me like I've said the most profound thing they've ever heard. "The only reason why they wouldn't take the bodies away is-" Xzander takes his turn interrupting me.

"a tribute is still here." he brandishes his trident setting down Zophia oh so gently and transforms into a prowling sadistic murderer. Zane follows suit and the two start skulking around the cornucopia. Immediately they find nothing but all 5 of us know someone is watching us.

For a brief moment I think back to the pendant Luderick gave me. I twist the triangle between my fingers contemplating the meaning of each word. I can't afford love in the arena, integrity means doing the right thing even when no ones looking but the arena isn't a place for morals I have to accept that, and valor, I have no idea what it means but I'd bet it's probably a good thing so forget it too. Why couldn't it say something like 'slash, drown, betray'? It'd be more appropriate.

I look to the sky hoping that a hovercraft will come out of nowhere and scoop up all the bodies. The blue sky offers no such blessing. It's vastness, unlike the ocean, offers me no respite when I need it most. Nothing but trees 45 feet high, a short red head hiding in a tree, a few birds soaring through the air.

Wait. There's a girl in that tree. It's Flair she's from 9, this year she got the lowest training score. Zane called her the dancer girl everyday mocking her. The lowest of all tributes managed to outsmart everyone -myself included. How impressive. I should shout and sell her out so Xzander can skewer her. But she's only like 13. She'll starve in a few days or something like that.

"There she is!" Whitacre found her. The very friend he had made in training he threw under the bus. Without even a second thought. How could he? They were laughing together at the survival station. It's disgusting.

In no more than 5 seconds Xzander and Zane are at the base of the tree throwing knives each scoring a hit on their first throw. Flair screams at the top her lungs and falls forward off the branch she was so dearly clinging to. Xzander's reflexes best Zane's and his trident make contact with her abdomen before she can even hit the ground. Unsympathetically Xzander shakes his trident until her corpse smacks on the ground, his eyes lower at the body in a cruel fashion'; his brown orbs burning holes in the already deceased tribute.

~BOOM~

What bothers me the most is his smile. His lips haven't parted but the corners of his lip snarl in hellish curve of malice. Between his grin and the bloody stench of murder I have to barf. I turn around a take a few steps away and empty the contents of my mostly empty stomach in a bush, unnoticed by my alliance. The invisible girl, the innocent one who hasn't even touched another tribute. At least Zophia was in a real fight with someone.

"Good eye Whitacre! Zane you could use a little more practice!" Xzander punches his killing buddies in the arm and the trio share a laugh each like it's some joke, not the death of a girl, just a piece of meat. I'm not sure how it happened but I'm on the outskirts of this alliance. Is death really so important to all of them to ostracize me because I haven't caused it? Or am I over thinking again and making myself paranoid? Probably the latter. I need to stop doing this to myself.

I've been trained to believe no individual life is worth a second thought, because now that I'm in here there's only one way to go home; I'm going to have to murder complete strangers and who knows maybe even my district partner, he seems to have taken a preference to the bloody blond brute leaving me in the dust. But then again these aren't the thoughts of a real career, I should be over with the other partaking in the joy of another fallen tribute. I am glad that she's dead, that's not the thing, but can't we all be a little less messy about it? Show a little reverence for the fallen?

We clear out once more and sure enough the hovercrafts finally arrive and steal away the bodies to be shipped off to their families. Each in a perfectly blank coffin holding the love of a lifetime and the blood one moment.

After all it only takes one moment to die. One moment to kill. And one moment to decide which happens to you.

The rest of the day is dedicated to setting up camp and eating a decent meal around. We have fire, food, water, and everything that a tribute could want to accomplish in the first 8 hours of battle. Plus Zophia's condition has almost completely improved, yet she hasn't told us the story behind the wound.

Even though I'm living the life of a killer in the Games. I can't shake it. Can I stay in Xzander's shadow? Has this all been worth it? Would I volunteer again? Can I actually end a life?

What do the oceans look like; I miss them.

* * *

that's 7 down in the first few moments of the games! now the real drama begins

Flair - (Sarah) everyone knew you had no hope but it was clever to climb up that tree it took the careers way to long to notice, so kudos to you!


	9. That Just Happened

here's a little more action for ya and remember things are just starting up! enjoy!

* * *

From the point of view of David

"I don't believe in being serious about anything.

I think life is too serious to be taken seriously."

Ray Bradbury

Yesterday was something that I'm glad I only have to live through once. It was crazy, running in weaving between fighting tributes searching for Sterling and Rosco while grabbing a weapon at the same time. Fairly successful seeing as how I escaped without being touched and I have knife.

After the anthem played and "The Fallen" light up the sky at first I felt bad. That vanished once the girl from 1 went up there I literally jumped for joy. A career at the bloodbath? That's epic! Whoever did that deserves a medal! The careers from 2 are both still alive which is sad. Then the boy from 3 not a huge surprise seeing as how he was nothing but a huge brute.

Then the girl from 6. Which means that the careers from 4 are both alive too. It also means that my district partner, Zeebee, is alive too. I'm glad that she made it out alive. She made some good connections at training and I'm hoping that they serve her well. While I'd never protect her maybe they will. I'm only teaming up with those who can protect me. People always target the bigger threat first so I'll have time to slip away.

After her is the pair from 9, which means there's one district already out of the running. What a shame Vlad was a really cool guy. I could see him being my brother or something like that. But Flair's death is the one that bothers me. I ran right past her at the bloodbath. I saw he climbing up a tree and let her go. It was clever so I figured what the hell, let her live. Plus that girl couldn't kill if she wanted to.

Then Nathaniel from 10 gets his head shot shown. He's a surprise though. He was talking to the head career and they were getting chummy, guess the alliance was very one sided. Serves him right for teaming up with the freakshow.

Lastly is the girl from 11. Which means Rosco's still alive too! Never talked to her, but I'm not surprised with her death. She was the oldest tribute but had one of the lowest scores. Clearly she didn't have the drive within her to actually fight for herself and to make a win.

Though, if she did have the fire inside her then it'd be nothing more than an obstacle I have to overcome. So in turn I'm glad she didn't have what it takes. Only one of us does.

That's the fascinating part of the Hunger Games. Each year is 24 different tributes and each year a different set of skill are needed to come out alive. Some years it takes a manipulator, others a survivalist, and sometimes it takes nothing more than going through the whole thing unnoticed, and then bashing some heads in at the end.

This year I have a feeling it'll take someone with a genuine heart who has a purpose for going home. Someone who's funny and quick witted. A victor who uses speed, finesse, and cunning rather than brute force and strength. The type of victor that people actually like to talk to just for the sake of talking. Someone like me.

This morning my only concern is finding Sterling. He's obviously still alive and assuming that our alliance is still in tact I want him around me as soon as possible. Aside from the careers he got the highest score, then the ginger bro from 7, and then me. Well technically I tied with the pair from 3 and the girl from 6. But 2 of them are already dead so clearly they didn't deserve their rank like I did.

It's a little bit chilly but nothing that I'm not already used to. The night was the exact same temperature, in fact it was warm enough that I don't think anyone aside from the careers started a fire. On more than one past occasion has a fire been the downfall of stupid tributes. If there ever was a form of suicide in the arena it would be a fire.

Trying to be as quiet as possible I begin my trek from my forest bed. I didn't snatch up any gear so it consisted of a crap ton of leaves. Nothing that glamorous but it's functional for 60 degree weather.

I brandish my knife as I keep a steady pace through the vastness of the trees. I figured that our tributes uniforms would make it easy to find people but I see no one. We're all decked out in the same bright orange jacket with a matching orange shirt underneath. Then jean type material shorts and hiking boots to tie the outfit together.

After a boring hour of walking I sheath my knife and sit down. I'm going to need water if I intend to keep this up for much longer. The higher the sun gets the hotter it gets and, based on the plethora of plant life water should be in abundance.

I jump quickly on a sturdy stump and look around as far as I can see. If I'm not mistaken there appears to be a small opening not too far from me. Seems like a good place to start my trek for the quenching life force that is water.

During my walk over I keep my vigilance as high as possible, but I know that I'm alone. Being the fastest tribute has it's advantages and being the farther away from the cornucopia is something I'm not going to complain about! Not my fault that other people can't keep up.

Sure enough as I reach the clearance I remain alone. In the center of the grassy opening is a well. While it could be a Capital trap it could also be my saving grace, I am pretty thirsty after all. So I do what any sensible tribute would do.

I walk straight up to the well and begin lowering the bucket. At first the handle doesn't move but once I brace my leg up to it and kick swiftly the handle gets jarred loose and moves once again. It creaks the entire way down until I hear the distinct splash of water running into a bucket. The _splosh_ noise of water, how I've missed it.

Granted it's hasn't been an entire day yet but water is something that you don't realize you need so much until after it's gone; walking into the kitchen and getting a glassful for the sake of quenching my thirst, washing my face, or even to water a plant. It's one of those things that I've never really thought about until now.

Once the bucket is close enough for me reach I grab it and bring the life saving liquid to my lips. The bucket itself isn't anything special but it's clean and the water it provides is crystal clear. Half of the water ends up being chugged down my gullet and the other half spills over my lips cooling my entire body as it flows.

"Aaaahhhh" my moment of peace takes away from the whole tone of the Games. That is until behind me I hear footsteps moving very quickly. Dropping the empty pail I turn on my heels knife raised ready to fight for my life but before I can I fall off my feet being tackled with the force of a rhino.

"Oh shit sorry David." the tribute who aimed to kill me is none other than my ally Sterling. He backs his sword off from my neck laughing as he goes.

"It's about damn time you found me! I haven't seen you since you ran off at the bloodbath!" he sheathed his sword and cockily stands facing me, smile beaming and all.

"Well I could say the same about you, didn't exactly make it easy to hunt you down." I wince at the word 'hunt'. "Either way I got you now and we're both armed so we can start taking out the careers."

He's right. That was the plan all along, to grab some weapons team up with Vlad, recently dead, and Rosco. But I have no idea where Rosco is. I couldn't care less for Rosco but he's a decent fighter and makes me laugh. But at the same time he's only like 14 years old, 5 feet tall, and 120 pounds. That's being generous. The three of us would make a kick ass team though. I can't let this get me down.

"Sterling I have to be serious with you, we can't take on five armed and deadly careers." I'm not so much a pessimist as I am a realist, and the real situation is three kids from 5, 6, and 11 can't take 5 psychos. Especially the guys from 1 and 4. God they freak me out, the only edge I have on them is my speed.

That's probably my best quality. Speed, that and finesse. Sterling, Rosco, and I all teamed up because we were the fastest. Aside from the ginger from 7 and maybe the boys from 4 and 10. The careers can't kill us if they can't reach us, and I didn't see any bows in the cornucopia so if I stay a spear length away I'm safe.

"We can! We need to find Rosco and then get our act together, come up with a plan, and pick them off. They're like wolves; one career alone isn't that deadly, but when you get them in a pack that's when they're the most effective." when Sterling finishes he reaches to his neck and grabs his necklace and starts chewing on it, probably a bad old habit. Either that or how he remembers what it's like to be home.

It's his token. The last thing he has of home. The only shred of familiarity he can cling to. I'm almost jealous, my family didn't give me a token, there's nothing of value that they could've given me to help me get through this. I have nothing but my will power and a knife. I'd prefer my battle axe but that's not going to happen, Zeebee grabbed it. We both had to want the same weapon, what a joke district 5 is.

"You know if you're really going to take down the careers you're going to need more than three people." it's a girl. Once I swivel my head and find her she's short, tan, thin, with dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. There's an 8 where her district badge is. She's got a back pack strung around her shoulder but doesn't appear to be actually armed with anything.

"She's right you both need people, and we're your girls." yet again a short girl, extremely thin and pale, with brown locks the tumble down most of her back. She's from 10 and like the girl from 8 has nothing more than a backpack.

"What're your names?" Sterling pipes up always being the social one. Can't say that it bothers me, I'm going to slip under the radar and if he's going to make his target bigger by broadcasting his personal life then by all means go ahead.

"I'm Aella. District 8's most amazing orphan." great, she's an orphan. The Capitalites all love a sob story. "If you need incentive for keeping me I've got food, water, and in training I got a 7. Only 1 short of what you got David." she knows my name. She's one of those tributes who studies everyone and tries to get in their head.

"Fair enough, nice to meet you Aella." he goes over to her and shakes her hand. "And what about you ma'am?"

"District 10. Name's Misery. Got enough gear to keep all four of us comfortable. Everything save for a tent." she's far more reserved than Aella but if I recall right she was the girl who started yelling at a wall regarding the careers. Saying she was going to kill them all and take their fingers as trophies. I don't like this.

"Glad to meet you too Misery. I'm Sterling and my mate over there is David" again he shakes her hand smiling the whole time. He's got a mad social game. "So what's your story?" Sterling walks over to the well and lowers the bucket into the reservoir.

"You mean in the Games or in life? Because I have two and they aren't related in the slightest." again it's Aella who responds first. At this rate Sterling will warm up to her in a matter of minutes and then I'm on the outskirts of this alliance. Not sure if I'm ok with that.

"Either or. Whichever you think's more important. Or whatever the best story is." he pulls the bucket out of the well and takes a hefty gulp clearly just as enticed as I was by the water's refreshing sting. Once he takes his share he passes the bucket to Misery who pawns it off the Aella.

"The best story is probably my life back in 8. My parents died when I was no taller than a sewing machine. Lived on the streets ever since. Made me strong, resourceful and fast." Oh? So cocky miss Aella? She thinks she's fast, isn't that what this group is starting to accel at. Unfortunately for her I'm the fastest. Aella continues her talking after slurping from the pail of water.

"As for the Games when gong blasted I was stunned for a few seconds. I guess I wasn't expecting it to happen so suddenly." she scratches her neck nervously. "But once I got my head in it I ran straight for the cornucopia grabbing my backpack as I went."

"Why didn't you grab a weapon?" I peep up for the first time since their arrival. I realize once I finish talking that maybe I was being a little too upfront but I don't have time to waste.

"I was getting to that, would you calm down?" I roll my eyes "About 10 feet in front of me was a spear and it was mine. In dead sprint the big girl from 7, Vessar, knocked me straight on my ass. By the time I got on my feet there were fights breaking out all over the place and I took the best option and ran." she pauses to take another sip followed by a long silence. "I should've kept going, probably would've taken down somebody and made my job a tad easier, but that adrenaline. It's all go go go and no thinking. They weren't kidding when they call it a fight or flight response. I guess mine was to run and get the hell out. No point getting killed in the first minute." her voice sounds much weaker and her tone is solemn.

"We all have a reason why did what we did." Sterling's words seem to offer some comfort to Aella and she smiles back at him. "What about you Misery?"

"Don't you remember? Come on Sterling I was right next you." her voice sounds so cold and emotionless.

"I guess not. Sorry I was more focused on running than anything else." his words are so dumbfounded.

"Let me recount the events for you. You were on my right, my district partner Nathaniel to my left, then Xzander, then Uraburus. Once hell broke loose you, Uraburus, and Xzander were all in the cornucopia grabbing weapons living in your little worlds. None of you noticed how close you were to each other. Nathaniel was on his ass so I helped him up and kept running in." this chick is freaking me the hell out, I don't know what her deal is. But alas she keeps talking.

"Yeah, I grabbed a sword once I got there but the career from 1, Zane in case you can't remember his name either, was chasing Nathaniel down so I tossed him the sword. That's when I ran; when there was no other option. No throwing knives laying around, no other swords to work with, and since the only thing within reach was a back pack I took it. I kept running and heard Xzander screaming at me but he got hung up for some reason. I took a glance behind me and Nathaniel was holding his own pretty well until Xzander came back and stuck him like pig. After an hour I ran into her and now here we are bright and early."

She's so dark. Every word she speaks slithers out of her mouth and while I want to trust her there's something about her I can't shake. She's willing to give up a sword to another tribute but then boasts about the desire to murder the careers? That's backwards, something in her mind isn't running on full cylinders.

I walk over to her and place my arm on her shoulder, clearly bothering her. "Well then you know what comes next right?" I stare her right in the eyes and I stab my knife into her heart. Her eyes are soulless black holes of anger. I can see her entire life with one shade of ebony. Such depression, anger, and I'm willing to guess isolation. The world hasn't treated her right and I'm doing what she needs.

_~BOOM~_

"What the hell man!" Aella screams at me realizing I just killed her number one ally in the games. "What the hell are you doing?! You can't kill who ever you want!"

"Obviously you missed the part where only one of us gets out alive." I speak as calmly as I can as I jerk the knife from Misery's lifeless body. It falls to the ground with thump as I walk towards Aella. She must be glued to her spot, fight or flight doesn't apply to a cornered mouse.

"Please don't do this I can help you!" her eyes start to well up with tears.

"No, you can't. Not without a weapon. Sorry babe." she twists on her heels and bolts away from me but I know that I'm faster. It takes me no more than 15 seconds until I catch up to her and yank on her ponytail. She falls backwards landing in the grass with a grunt. Sterling catches up to us and watches. He doesn't say anything and he doesn't interfere with what has to be done. He might not be able to do it but I will. For the sake of my family.

Aella's sobbing breaks out into a complete episode as she screams for help. She needs to realize that this isn't personal. I'm sure she's a nice girl and funny, heck I'll even admit she's really cute. But cute won't win the Hunger Games when I'm around. Without a second thought I swing my knife across her throat and her blood spills everywhere.

_~BOOM~_

"Sterling it had to be done." I wipe the blood off on my pants and grab my hair falling to the ground in the process. I ended the lives of two very innocent girls. For no reason aside from the Capital and their sick Hunger Games. I can't believe it. Sterling looks me dead in the eye, not unlike how I did to Misery.

"Bro, you need to relax. I was going to off them right after they gave us their stuff. But this works too. I would've caught up sooner but I wanted to get that girl's backpack before the hovercrafts took her body away. It's no use to me if the Capital gets it." he speaks without wavering and deep down I know he's telling me the truth.

"Thanks." for some reason that's the only word that seems like it fits the situation enough to cross my lips.

"David, it's called the Hunger _Games_ for a reason. Some people are pawns like these two girls and other people are kings, us. So lighten up a little and don't take things so seriously because if you do that's when it'll get inside your head man, and I need you here with me. Are you with me?"

My first reaction is nothing more than silence, absorbing what crossed his lips right now. Sterling is the whole package deal, he really is. He's skilled, fast, social, strong, handsome by anyone's standards, and now he proves that he's got the best head on his shoulders out here. But he's loyal to me, my puppet on a string.

"Are you kidding man? I'm with you til the bitter end." he offers me a hand up which I eagerly take. "Now lets check out our spoils."

The rest of the day is spent figuring out what to do with all of the new found gear and setting up some sort of a camp ignoring the cannon that fires during the day. Misery was right, I do have everything I need, even without the tent.

It's been 2 days since I entered the arena and I don't regret anything. I will win. I'm exactly the type of Victor this world needs. Sorry Sterling but in an imperfect world a perfect tribute can't win.

* * *

2 more down! hope you're ready for a little romance in the next chapter! review!

Misery (Syd) - you were probably the person who got into this the most, your death surprised me so early

Aella (Shai) - totally killed it right?

-much love


	10. Emotions

and we continue with the drama of the games! please enjoy and review :)

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From the point of view of Zeebee

"If there's a prize for rotten judgement I guess I've already won

My head is screaming get a grip, girl Unless you're dying to cry your heart out"

Meg from Hercules

Labute's arm wraps around my shoulder and he pulls me in closer, I willing oblige putting my head on chest. He might have a small frame but he's warm, needless to say I appreciate the human contact. Anything to help me ignore what's going on around me. I look at his emerald eyes and smile, he really is cute. We share the same pale and pasty skin tone, it's our hair that makes us look so different my dark chestnut brown ponytail in contradiction with his short lightning blonde hair.

After the chariot rides were over during training he and I spent a little too much time together. He showed me how to weave blankets from vines or rope and a how to properly hem a garment that gets ripped. That's all I did one morning; listen to him trip over his words and watch his fingers nervously fumble through the makeshift fabrics. For another morning I showed him how to start a fire using a battery. He'll never need the skill in his entire life, but it's fun to watch the spark ignite and feel the heat.

It was actually kind of amazing, I don't flirt very often. Anyone who watched us would've been disgusted thinking that we didn't care about survival or figuring out how to win. But they'd be wrong.

At least they'd be wrong about me, I have no illusions about how this whole thing works. Labute on the other hand, he's kinda dense, absolutely adorable and funny, but still very slow witted. My intentions aren't to necessarily use him as a human shield, yet if he so happened to jump in front of me if we get ambushed again I wouldn't complain. People like Labute don't win the Hunger Games for a reason it's because he's straight up dumb. That's the most direct and kindest way I can think of phrasing it.

You mustn't misunderstand me though, I do like him. Take this moment for example, we're doing nothing but sitting up against a tree watching the sunset and I couldn't be happier, unless I was out of the games that is. There's something about his comforting aura, I feel safer with him around. Not just because he's my ally but since he cares about me, he's willing to protect me and fight for me. Even if it comes to the point where he gets killed.

The sunset finally finishes sinking beneath the tree line and there's an immediate change in the color of the forest. The game makers are obviously messing with the time because there hasn't been a complete 24 hours from yesterday's sunset to now, maybe only a few hours of a change. I wonder how many people notice it, I only could since I'm not really that tired. Maybe that's the idea is to keep us up past dark? That's kinda cruel, the dark makes everything worse.

As such now that it's dark the anthem plays and I pull away from Labute, a rush of cool air fills the gap that was his shoulder. I think he notices me shiver, and he stands up next to me taking off his jacket and helps me into it. We both look up and see the emblem of the Capitol, an eagle with wings spread abroad and arrows clenched between it's razor talons.

The first head shot we see is Vessar. I still can't believe what happened earlier but I'm still here and she's not so in the end it doesn't matter. Labute's hand starts at my shoulder and slowly runs down my arm. His skin is warm to the touch. I spare a moment to look into his eyes and we both know exactly what happened to her, we can't afford to spare the guilt of a second though because she's immediately replaced with Aella.

Oh my God, Labute's district partner. The touch of his fingers immediately go cold and start trembling against the fabric of his jacket. She was so confident in training that by getting away from District 8 she'd be able to live a decent life, not such a short and shocking death. I wonder what could've happened.

After her second in the sky the girl from 10 face is the focus of everyone. I never talked to her, but I can only assume it was the doing of the careers, after all she was the one who called them all out. No skin off my back, another one dead means I'm that closer to home.

So that makes a total of 10 down. Districts 9 and 10 are out of it, and with the way things are going it doesn't look like any of the outliers, Labute included, are doing very well. District 5 on the other hand, staying strong! I hope David is doing well, not good but at least ok. I hope that I never have to see him again. I couldn't bare to look him in the eyes and kill him, but I think he could.

Makes me think of earlier today for some reason.

When I woke up it was pleasant morning, almost picturesque. Dew was littering the grass, bird were chirping a happy tune, and Labute already had a small fire going cooking some bird shaped thing. It was a quiet night and unlike the bloodbath we didn't do anything all evening.

At the bloodbath Labute and I, as though it was planned, were right next to each other. We both agreed beforehand to find each other and make a run for it but since we were so close I whispered to him something along the lines of lets just go for it! And that's exactly what we did. He grabbed a spear and I got my lovely battle axe. Probably should have grabbed some survival gear but weapons are vitally important in the 'fight' part of the games.

Either way the first day we didn't really do anything. We didn't touch anybody and at the end of the day I didn't really recognize any of the faces of the dead tributes. A career died, that's good. As good as someone dying can get, it's a morbid thought to crave the end of someone. To want nothing more than a dozen or so people to decide that they should commit group suicide together. Essentially anyone but me, or Labute.

A few hours after we got up we realized that it was actually warm outside and the sun is actually beating down on us. So we searched for water. Granted I couldn't guarantee it in any way but I'm 99.99% sure that we went in the same circle. At one point in time Labute swore he saw some footprints and he was knelt down inspecting them and with his endless wit he deciphered that they were his own prints. Hardcore brilliance right there, poor guy didn't even hear my stifle my laugh of mockery.

Suddenly I remember being punched in the gut, winding me and blurring my vision then having my back forced up against a tree. My natural screaming instinct was only held quiet by the knife blade across my throat. A tall, stacked, dark haired girl with a 7 on her shoulder had jumped me and knocked my axe out of reach.

My first thought was of my sister. How I'm sure that she would know a fancy maneuver to flip her own weight around on her and I could slash her throat. But I'm not the skilled one, I'm not the strong one, and I'm not the trained one. After thoughts of Bailey my misguiding mind locked onto Labute's terrified eyes.

His normal bright emerald was replaced by a scared and timid green that looked completely out of place from his normal complexion. I was scared for him. Not about myself, but for him. Here I am effectively pinned against a tree and this guy I barely know is my focus.

"Do you trust me?" He manages to whimper out a weak response to fill the new tension of silence that's fallen between the three of us. My immediate response is of course I don't trust him, but right now he's my only hope. I lay my head back down against the tree and close my eyes fearing the worst. But I answers his question with a nod so small that wouldn't be noticeable without complete concentration.

An animalistic grunt comes from the girl with a knife against my jugular. The squint dominating my eyes is lessened and I see her hands gripped around a spear jutting out of her stomach. Her knife has fallen to the ground and I instinctively kick the blade away to prevent it from causing me any more harm and freight. Her shaking form falls at my feet as she struggles to hang on to life.

"Vest" the girl is trying to talk to Labute and I. He drops to the ground and puts his ear as close as he to her mouth. Her eye struggle to stay open as the connect to mine, I can't stand to hold my focus so I turn to the side and ignore her.

"Say again." he whispers in a hushed tone to match her level of intensity. She can only mutter out two more words before her breath stops forever.

"Vessar. Name." she has a coughing fit and Labute backs away from her as she hacks blood all over the place until she finally falls silent.

_~BOOM~_

Labute silently takes the backpack from her that I failed to notice in my fear. He nudges me and we leave her body behind. The hovercraft takes her from the arena. I notice that Labute doesn't even look back.  
That's when I realize he killed her. He killed an innocent girl for no reason, absolutely none. Sure, she had a knife on my throat but maybe she wanted an alliance or was just afraid. Something! Anything! But then again she could've killed me. She's dead and I'm not that's what this has to boil down to. I'd rather have her family cry over a body bag than mine. I can't afford to care, I have to be selfish. For my sake, for my family's sake, and for Labute's sake.

Labute's hand is still shakily attempting to makes it way down my arm to my fingers. My heart beat stays the same pulse but it far more noticeable now. I can feel each_ thump-thump_ as the blood rushes from the tip of my fingers to the bottom of my feet.

It's the initial spark that makes me inhale sharply. His typically warm fingertips gently gliding across my wrist. Each finger twisting it's way intertwining with mine in an auspicious heat of romance. Finally though with my finger's coaxing our hands are joined with a clutch of symbolic togetherness and genuine care.

I turn my head and find his eye already fixated on my own. The green spheres shadowy and shrouded with the darkness of the enhanced night, still spurred with energy and life. The corners of his lips slowly move upward as he gives me a silent smile or reassurance, it says 'I'm here for you' as well as 'we can do this'. He really is something different, in a game of murder he managed to find love. _Thump-thump._

Wait. Love? Is this love? I don't know if I would go that far yet. Here we are standing in the middle of the arena, holding hands, could be ambushed at any time, weapons to the side, and I think I'm falling in love with this boy, this stupid ignorant knight in shining armor.

"Labute what are we doing?" I release his hand only to grab onto him with tight hug squeezing my ear against his chest. His heart beat is equal mine in strength and fervor. _Thump-thump_. He lowers his head so his lips are on the top of head brushing against my hair as he talks.

"Well Zeebee, I was thinking we could start a fire..." I can feel his mouth against my hair distinctively form my name, his breath is warm until I cut him off.

"No, no, no." I release the hug and take a few steps away from him. He doesn't understand what I mean. "I mean us. We both know that we can't get out of this." I lean up against a tree and lower my voice in conjunction with my head. "There's no hope."

"So?" he pauses but I can hear his feet crunching over to me atop the twigs of the forest floor. His hand falls on my shoulder and starts rubbing circles up and down my back. I'm fighting the urge to cry, perhaps he's what's holding me together. Nothing more than his presence. _Thump-thump_

"You don't get it do you? I have to kill you! You have to die Labute!" a get off the tree and give him a strong push away. I stand my ground 5 feet away facing him trying to hold a stony expression of neutrality, it's all I can do to hold in the water works. He just clouds my thoughts makes it harder to focus on surviving. It's too easy to get lost in his touch, his eyes, and just him.

"Why does everyone think I'm so dumb?" the palm of his hand finds his face as he rubs his hair shaking his head sideways. "Ya know, maybe I'm ok with that? Did that ever cross your mind?"

"Why would you say that! You can't want to die, you can't!" my emotions are caught between anger and desperation. Whatever magnetism he has on prevents me from running away from the entire situation. _Thump-thump._

"I don't want to die. I accepted the fact that I'm going to." his tone is completely void of emotion and his expression is one of pure neutrality.

"Huh? Wha- What do you mean? Accepted?" I dare a few steps closer to him so I'm within arm's reach, I can't brave myself to reach out to him. I fear that he, much like myself, is barely held together.

"Zeebee, maybe you're the one who doesn't get it." he moves so that my nose is almost touching his sternum and he gazes down on me. "I died the second my name was pulled out of the reaping ball. I just accepted it then. I never stood a chance, so when I was on the train ride to the Capitol I decided then I wouldn't spend my last days being sad and fearing my death. I want to die happy with a friend." his hand brushes a strand of my hair from my face. "A special beautiful friend, who can go home." _Thump-thump._

"Labute." there are so many words that I want to say. So many amazing things about what a great person he is, about how thankful I am he'd even consider making the ultimate sacrifice, that he makes me wish I was a better person, and that I'm so sorry. I'm sorry it took the Hunger Games to bring him to me. Yet, despite my heart screaming out to him, I can't find the words to speak. Nothing but a single tear falling.

"Ya know, I started at District 12 during the chariot thing in the Capitol. I introduced myself to every single person and you were the only person, the only damn one who'd actually talk to me. I knew then that I wanted you to go home. The fact that you're talented," the back of his hand rolls down my face past my chin until it cups the back of my neck "you're beautiful" his other hand snakes slyly around my waist pulling me ever so slightly towards him "and you're caring are all bonuses."

In synch he lowers his lips down onto my raising lips, each pair perked waiting for the spark of earlier to ignite fully into a flame of passion. The initial contact is hesitant and after a lengthy moment I pull away. The fire of the kiss releases the flood of my eyes. I can't prevent myself from whimpering and convulsing as the tears freely flow. _Thump-thump._

"Til death do us part?" I quote the only part of the cliché wedding vow I can think of. If it wasn't for the circumstances under which we met I could honestly see myself dating him and I don't know having a life together. But once I finish speaking the weight of Vessar's knife latched on my side becomes unbearable and I cry even harder.

"For ever and ever sweetheart." again he reaches out to me and more forcefully this time pulls me in. My hands lay at my side the one running up and down the hilt of the knife the other playing with the hem of his jacket. Another symbol of the protection that he's provided me. Our first interaction he protected me after the careers during the chariots, when I was cold even 10 minutes ago he gave me this jacket, and now when my heart is on the line he's willing to have his stop beating. I do love him. _Thump-thump_. I pull the knife from sheath by the hilt_ thump-thump_ and throw it as hard as I can _thump-thump_ directly behind me. He wipes the tears from my eyes and we share a silent smile.

"Thank you." I know it's not enough, and it never will be, I have to let him know what this all means to me. "I'm sorry this happened to us, but I'm willing to be happy with you, for however long we have."

Ya know, I've thought it before and I still agree with myself now but people like Labute don't win the Hunger Games. Well they should. I'm going to make him win whether he wants to or not. We have weapons, food, water, and dammit I'd like to see someone try and take us.

"Zeebee, let's get some rest. I think we both deserve it." he takes the time to clean up the last of my tears and kiss me warmly on the forehead. It's not like the blaze of romance from before, it's the wave of comforting heat I've always needed. It sets my heart at ease and for the first time since we saw the deceased tributes of the day I'm at peace. I nod at him is pleasant agreement.

A chime breaks the sound barrier and Labute jumps away from me to grab his spear and starts flipping around the immediate area looking for the source of the foreign noise. It isn't until I point to the parachute that he stops his skulking and puts the spear up against a tree. Since I found it, and there's a 5 on it, I open it. Within there's a note which I pocket hastily hoping he doesn't notice, a small canister, and a large length of rope that I dump on the ground.

"What the hell is this for?" I look at the rope and back at Labute whose eyes seem to light up and the sight of the huge amount of hemp.

"Give me 20 minutes and it'll be a bed." his butt finds the floor and immediately he starts braiding the rope in a confusing pattern. I watch for a few moments until I realize that he's making a hammock for the both of us. Someone sponsored us a bed, I guess that Capitol is eating up the romance -another perk to having him around.

"I'll leave you to your work I have to use the restroom." he kinda nods an acknowledgement to me as I grab my battle axe and leave him be. Once I'm far enough away to avoid being seen I pull out the note and it reads:

"All cameras on you, special meal for his special girl. -Corvet"

Next I open us the canister and the smell of chicken stock fills my nose. It's just broth but it's the closest thing to a hot meal I'll get while I'm in the arena so I chug the entire thing as fast as I can. I should feel guilty about drinking but if I shared then we both wouldn't get an entire portion, this way I at least get enough sustenance to last me through tomorrow.

It only takes me 5 minutes to retrace my steps and I find Labute tying a clincher knot of the end of a perfectly crafted hammock. We spend a few minutes tying it off to some nearby trees high enough so that someone could walk underneath us.

I scamper up the tree first and he's right behind me. The knots all hold and once we both get situated to sleep he wraps his arm around me -always the protector.

"I love you Zeebee." he whispers in my ear. I pretend to be asleep but we both know I love him too. This might be the death of us, but I think I finally get where he was coming from. Live it up while we can.

I may not survive the night, the next day, the next week, or hell even the next 5 minutes, but I know from here on out I'm living a happy and fulfilled life with Labute by my side.

* * *

the arena is no place for love... yikes next update we'll see what David has been up to!

Vessar (Miranda) - some people actually had you pegged to win, shame you didn't even get a kill, good for me though

much love


	11. Survival

as promised here's everyone's favorite sprinter from 5  
also I apologize for not updating faster, my life got really crazy we sold my dog, my phone broke, my car broke and my college classes started needless to say I'm struggle to find time for this but I'm going to make time! so please review makes me want to work harder when I know someone's reading my work thanks!

* * *

From the point of view of David

"We have in fact two kinds of morality side by side one which we preach but

do not practice and another which we practice but seldom preach"

Bertrand Russell

"Well David it's the third day of the Hunger Games! There are a total of 14 living tributes and out of the 10 that are dead you killed 2 of them! That's quite impressive how do you feel? Please tell us everyone is dying, no pun intended, to know!" Sterling gives me his best impression of Flickerman and for a second I flash back to being trapped on stage under the heat of the light talking myself up, something I did surprisingly well according to Corvet.

The last bit of contact I had with that world was that damned launch pad to the bloodbath. Slipping into my orange uniform, pulling up some knee high socks, and listening to all the last minute advice she was trying to cram in before she went to Zeebee. Apparently after the interviews I was first chair and she lost her status as the favorite.

Corvet went on and on about how proud of me she was for doing such a fantastic job at my interview. She kept blabbering on while I was preparing for launch. "Everyone's talking about you!" or "You took the interviews by storm!" some stupid and awkwardly out of place comment spewed from her mouth every 5 seconds. Based on what she was telling me in the bathroom that was her defense to being nervous, turning into a stereotypical Capitol prick. I remember the games from last year because both district 5 tributes were bloodbaths, maybe she was expecting a repeat?

Actually compared to some of the other districts 5 is still going pretty strong. Last night the girl from 7 was up so that means the only full districts are 12, 5, 4, and 2. But when you really think about 12 is a total joke so I'm just going to ignore them and since there's still a career from 1 alive they have a decent chance too. At the rate outliers are going we won't find Rosco in time and the careers will be guaranteed a win.

Only if damn Tamarac wasn't dead she could help us out so much. They Capitol preaches odds to us and right now anyone who's not in an alliance is totally boned. Even if I got Zeebee, Labute, and Rosco to fight with Sterling and I we only match the careers in numbers. While I'd never admit it outloud I do regret killing those girls, numbers could help right now, numbers and weapons that is and that's where Misery and Aella fell short.

"Well Flickerman I feel pretty amazing!" I say with a mock tone of joy "All considering my only complaint about the Hunger Games is that there's no styling crew to make me look good before I fight for my life, it's such a drag." Sterling starts laughing and punches me in the arm a little too hard.

His presence pisses me off as well as makes life tolerable, I'm not sure how some people are surviving on their own like Rosco. He's smaller and younger than I am and he's the one who's completely alone, for God's sake he could be fighting Zane or Juniper or whoever else is still alive. I didn't see him at the bloodbath neither had Sterling so there's no telling what's going on with him.

"Well David I'm afraid we're all out of time so I'm going to have to say good night!" finally he ceases his mock interview and blesses me with peace and quiet, something that I'm not sure if I appreciate or not. Originally the forest was a great thing in the beginning of the games, full of life and vitality. But now that I have blood on my hands everywhere I turn my head I imagine a tribute popping out with a spear and going for my jugular.

And the part that makes it scary is that, I don't know if I can kill again. I genuinely thought that I was ok and justified their deaths in my mind but I keep seeing those black soulless eyes and keep hearing Aella scream 'you can't do this!'. But I could, and I did. A few weeks ago I was scorning the Capitol for swooning over the death of kids but now I'm the source of their revelry, I have to be a favorite. After all I got an 8 in training, called out the careers on national television, and have 2 kills. What more could you want from a non-career tribute?

That's not the point though. Nothing I've done has justified my actions, 'they forced me to' is a real shitty excuse. Just because a gun is pointed at my head does that give me permission to shoot someone else for the chance that I might not be shot? No, it doesn't. It can't. I refuse to believe that I live in a world where something so wrong is completely accepted and encouraged.

"Sterling do you have any food?" I try to keep my mind busy by shifting my attention to my stomach, if I fixate on the cruelty of the Games I'll say something uncalled for in the eyes of my executioner.

"Yeah man, I got you it's in Aella's pack, here." he tosses me the mud covered sack and the mention of her name causes my innards to immediately clench and my face to grimace. Between my recent anxiety and a brave impulse I ask a question with an answer I know I'll never actually want to hear.

"How can you say her name and not die inside?" my sporadic voice fights to prevent myself from cracking and looking weak in front of my ally. I want him to remain silent pretend like I don't exist and over look my curiosity and carry on like we've been. Yet he looks at my with perfectly lively eyes and an amused chuckle.

"That's easy." he closes the 10 yard gap over to me taking the backpack from my hands, opening it in one swift fluid motion. He digs through the pack with an eyebrow raised in curious discovery, his hand emerges victorious grabbing two apples. "I wasn't the one who killed them. You did." he hands me the blood red fruit and walks away unaware of how wrecked my mind just became.

He's right.

There's no way around it. Even if I die in this hell hole there are two families that will always loathe me. They're not going to be at the funeral of their daughter and say 'oh David's not to blame here it was the Hunger Games'. No, they're going to say that ass hole from 5 stopped my little girl, my sister, my friend from winning. He did this. Not Flickerman. Not the President. Not the Game makers. Me. David.

When someone you know, some you love, dies in the Games it changes you. My next door neighbor was 17 when she was reaped two years ago. I remember her father coming over everyday to watch the evening hours of the games with us, just to have company -someone to cry to. I wonder if my parents are doing the same? Taking my younger brothers Carlos and Chance to someone's house and clinging to the arm of that someone.

My neighbor's daughter was doing pretty good as far as I was concerned, it was the top 9 and she broke off her alliance with some random guy, from 10 I think, and they went their separate ways. The Game makers thought it was a convenient time to release a pack of Muttations shaped like ocelots. The jungles cats prowled amongst the trees and pounced on her tearing her flesh from limb until the only thing that could be shipped home was a spinal column and less than half of her skull. It made a sick list called the top ten best kills. Her father actually got money for that, blood money every cent. He couldn't bring himself to ever spend a nickle of it.

After that he never was the same. When it was all happening he was screaming, begging, groveling even for someone to help her, it was revealed later that the career pack watched it happened and did nothing. But once her remains got home he couldn't even manage a tear at the funeral, nothing. That year the boy from 2 ended up winning and when he came to District 5 during his victory tour he boasted about how he killed the boy in the bloodbath and laughed at the girl for losing to 'a few kittens'.

The victor of course moved on to the oceans of 4 but the impression he left on my neighbor wouldn't leave so easily. Later that night he hung himself, unable to live with the fact his daughter was slaughtered and someone even partially responsible for her death was still walking the earth, flaunting his skill for murder. How could I be able to live with myself if I get home knowing that I killed at least 2 girls? It wasn't even self defense, I was clearly the one in the wrong.

"Sterling." I call out my allies name for attention but end up having my voice stuck in my throat an unmovable nervous lump. When he turns back towards me I avert my gaze to the ground and fixate on a small chipmunk scurrying across the dirt and leaves, I drop my apple in front of it but I know it won't take it too much food for such a little animal. I just can't eat right now, unlike my pal who's completely devoured his fruit.

"Yeah man?" his tone is so nonchalant and bland. Has he not been affected about any of this? He's the obvious front runner to actually take down the careers are bring one home for the the mid-districts. There's some sick obligation with that!

"What the fuck is wrong with you man!" I shout at him pointing an accusatory finger in disgust.

"What's wrong with me? Bud you got it backwards, you're the one who's flipping off the walls and freaking out. You've officially gone crazy man." his dominant personality comes out and he closes what little space existed between us and his hand, whether knowingly or instinctively, found the hilt of his sword still hidden within it's sheath.

"I've gone crazy? No, I'm the sane one!" I'm not sure if I believe those words but I continue screaming, alerting everyone in the arena to my presence I'm sure. But at this moment it's the last of my concerns.

"Nothing about this conversation has an sanity to, now be quiet someone could hear you!" he's not yelling back he's intensely whispering at me with authority and a-typically I'd obey him without a second thought but that's not what this talk is about. This is important and he, and the Capitol, will hear what I have to say.

"You don't get it do you Sterling! The point of the Games! It's not about throwing the son of a peacekeeping in sword fight with a trained psychopath! The point is to tear people apart from each other! You have to see it back home in the districts! Even if you do survive you'd never be the same, the Victors are completely different people when they finally get out." my fragile voice continues "The worst part is the families of the victors get punished, whipped, killed even just because they victor stepped out of line. If that's the prize that I killed for then I'm not sure if I want to win.

He looks on at me with lost seas of confusion, mouth slightly agape, and a tinge of pity in the way he sighs. His retreat from me is slow and steady giving me the breathing room I hadn't realized I've been missing the past few moments.

"You can fight it" my frail voice tries to keep going "you can resist it, but when it comes down to it in the end the Capitol always wins. They always get their way and from the moment we were reaped we became pawns. Not kings like you want to believe. Can't you see that?" my eyes sting, not because I'm crying but because of the exact opposite, I can't muster a tear. My valiant speech has manifested in other ways the sadness, now a surge of energy and hatred flows through me. Not for the careers, not for whoever killed my ally Vlad, and not for any of the other surviving tributes, but for the Capitol.

His mouth opens but he can't seem to form any words of wisdom, comfort, or defiance. I'm not demanding an answer from him so much as an acknowledgement, just let me know that I'm not the crazy one.

Before he has any chance of calming me down a metallic chiming finds our ears and we both look up to find the source. A parachute? We've been sponsored. It drifts right in front of me and lands at my feet. I've been sponsored? I bend over to grab the metal canister and see the 5 etched in the side, it was meant for me, not Sterling. I open the tricky Capitol device and a knife falls to the ground, I find myself more focused on the note inside.

Sterling notices my obvious projection to the slip of paper and inquires "what does it say?" He comes over to stand by me but not within arms reach, he knows better than to provoke someone after a tirade like mine. However, I oblige him and read the note aloud.

"ZB's fine, look up

~C"

As if one cue both Sterling and I snap our necks upward and check among the treetops for someone hiding. Does she mean a tribute to kill? Or maybe a career sentry? Or even better yet some real food perhaps? My eyes scan through the leaves and branches craning to the what every camera is so eagerly focusing on, between my mental snap and the sponsor note I'm sure that right now I'm center stage.

"You see what Corvet's trying to point out to us?" I ask calmly, but it's a forced calm. My wavering tone and anxious heart beat are blatantly obvious to anyone within a 20 foot radius. Sterling replies with a nod no with squinted eyes and a furrowed brow. He's far more 'into' the idea of the Hunger Games than I originally anticipated.

His entire demeanor had changed since the arrival of my sponsor gift. He went from scolding me about my apparent lack of grip on reality to the ideal hunter. Whatever switch he has in his mind from pleasant to combative is slowly but surely begin to go hay wire. No one can stay in such a god forsaken lonely wood like this for too long before their mental capacity begins to drain away.

"Hold this and be silent." in a flash his sword is unhitched from his belt and in my hands, he springs for the knife that was the original object of my sponsorship. He bites down on the blade securing it safely in his mouth, either that or he's way too hungry. I will give him credit though, once he gets ahold of the first branch he makes his way higher and higher without making a noise. Per his instructions I stand perfectly still and focus on my breathing, in out, in out, in out. Shouldn't be so complicated right?

Once my blonde ally is about 50 feet up the branches are obviously becoming harder and hard to stand on as the golden boy actually breaks one of the tree's countless arms. He falls a decent 10 feet before his flailing arms and rippling muscles grasp onto something strong enough to hold all 5 and half feet of him. I bite back the urge to for once heckle him and finally get a quick remark in.

After he's completely situated between two branches he brandishes the knife from between his teeth to his dominant and throwing arm, for some reasons I think he found what we're both looking for. Except, when I search the premises with my sight I can't find anything, I have to maintain a little faith in my alliance, after all the whole point was so that he would protect me. He's the bonehead who volunteered to climb up a tree with a knife to assassinate someone. Not me. I can still be the good guy here. I'm not the only one who's willing to kill to go home.

In a swift fluid, almost mechanical, movement the blade flings forth from his fingers. My stomach twists with the knowledge that my knife is going to kill another tribute. Even if it's not my fault I played a part in another murder. Without a second thought I make a bold and probably ignorant move.

"Look out!" I scream as loud as I can, not knowing precisely who I'm saving or what fate I'm subscribing to. Would my action result in my death and Sterling's? I don't care, I just saved a life and that's what counts now. Preserving the collective consciousness of human existence.

As soon as I shout two things simultaneously happen. Sterling's focused intentions of causing death are shifted from the helpless tribute to myself and a small pale skinned tribute half jumps half falls down 5 feet to another tree. While Sterling may be burning holes in the back of my head with his stare I can only focus on Rosco. Safe and alive, because I wasn't afraid to live my humanity. Good things can come out of taking a stand.

"Rosco is that you! Holy shit man!" I can't resist the urge to call out to him with a complete disregard for Sterling's previous demand of silence. The little boy climbing through the trees realizes that I'm a friend not a foe and he begins to monkey his way down to me, same as Sterling whose typically neutral face is scrunched it a grimace. He's gotta be absolutely pissed at me. It's a small sacrifice to make for having the final piece of my alliance. We're finally all together, a soon to be cohesive and effective group of survivalists.

"I thought I'd never find you guys!" Rosco hits the ground with a thud. "I haven't seen anyone since the first 20 minutes!" his young cheeky face adds a jovial and lively tone to everything he says. It's a welcomed sight to have when I've been stuck in such an emotional funk.

"It's great to see you!" I stick my hand out and we share a quick 'bro-hug'. "Have we got a story to tell you, we haven't been nearly as lucky." Sterling's welcome is a simple as a nod and a handshake. I never really paid attention until now but I was the one who really formed this alliance and the two of them have no attachment to each other. They're nothing but a numbers in regards to one another. Reluctantly, I know I'll have to choose between them eventually. But for now I want to celebrate the small victory of fellowship.

"Do you know what happened to Willow?" Rosco gets straight to business. But I don't blame him, I'll want to know how Zeebee dies when her time comes.

"Sorry man, can't say that we do." I pat him on the shoulder trying to show that I really do care about him and I know what empathy is.

"David killed Misery and Aella. Ya know those girls who died on day 2 early in the morning? Yeah that was him. It was intense, stabbed both of them right in heart and stole their stuff." Sterling pipes up offering his two cents about how I did kill them. I knew I wouldn't be the one to mention and I feel almost, confident that all my dirty laundry is being aired out. No secrets, that's how I want to live the rest of my life.

"That was you? Damn. Well, two less to worry about I guess." Rosco doesn't seem too bothered but he speaks with more a tone of reverence now. It's comforting that he understands me, or at least understands the position that I'm right now. No complaints here. "What's the plan for the rest of the day?" he openly asks.

Sterling starts rattling off a bunch of ideas on stalking the careers and figuring out a course of action to take them out, but I don't listen. In fact the entire day I almost seem to check out. Having Rosco just makes everything a tad more light hearted, seeing youth and energy back in the dark forest. I never understood exactly how frightening it could be, when I get out I'm never stepping in another wooded area again.

But for now this is home. A cruel demented home, but a home nonetheless. The moment I stop believing it's a home I'll think it's a tomb, and I can't afford that. From here on out I'm all on the up and up, at least I hope. I don't know. Something's wrong with me and I can feel the cracks forming. I'm just holding on.

* * *

I promise I'll be doing my best to keep up better with updates, I figure I should have one saturday or sunday night since I already have a good head start on the next chapter

much love


	12. Good Morals

**lets check up on the careers and see how they're doing**

* * *

From the point of view of Xzander

"Evil when we are in its power is not felt as evil

but as a necessity or even a duty."

Simone Weil

"Zane toss me my pack." I resist the urge to scream my demand at him. I'm struggling to maintain what charm and manipulation I've built with him, or with anyone of the careers for that matter. It was easy during the first day, I was still high from the adrenaline rush of the bloodbath. Easily the greatest moment of my life, I'll never forget Nathaniel's last words: 'we had a deal'. How he was shocked at seeing me and feeling the life bleed out of him was such a rush of power.

Perhaps the other reason why I like to fixate on it is because, I had him fooled. Completely, entirely, wholeheartedly fooled. That grimey gross farmhand from boondock central district 10 sincerely bought my act completely. It was the ultimate sham and the easiest way to get, debatably, a threat out of the game. Why waste time actually fighting someone when you can simply stab them in the back? Not saying I can't win a fair fight by why the hell would I risk it?

"Sure thing, but uh, where is it?" dumbass. I point at the tent he and I've shared the last 2 nights. Careers like me are the problem with pack loyalty. Let's say, for example, in some parallel universe Zane was the leader. Granted such a thing would never happen since I've already proved to Panem that I'm the ultimate career, but if it did the results of the last few days would have been drastically different. If Zane was the boss I would have slashed his throat last after the second day of the games were over, then I would have done the same to Zophia and Whitacre, and I would have lit a fire and left Juniper asleep to be slaughtered by another tribute.

They're weak and without me they'd be nothing. Ten Tribute are dead, I caused four of them. That's nearly half. If you were to combine the kills of all the other careers that'd only be three, which just so happens to be the same amount of kill that every non-career has. A coincidence? I think not. Take any four of the living tributes and they could smoke Zane, Juniper, Zophia, and Whitacre, and that's not me being full of my myself it's a fact, and it's because they have a lack of training or skills.

Here's why: they have no sense of what it means to be a career. Sure, Zane is on his way. That's why I've made him my sidekick and frankly I'd go as far as saying he's my bitch. What else do you call it when you listen to someone unconditionally and do everything they say? That's the amount of power I have over all of them. Nearly everyone in the games who could kill me is completely under my command. Where's the sense of self in that?

"Xzander catch." as I commanded he got my hunting pack and gave it to me properly. People like Zane are a joke. They think they're a real career but when push came to shove on the first night he shuddered just as much as everyone else did when he saw who died. When the boy from 9 and girl from 11 got their last salute he realized the finality of his actions, it's nothing but another angle I can manipulate. He came into the arena thinking he could kill and not care, but alas he still has a conscious. What a fool.

"Thanks." I swing the pack around and it lands on my back with a heavy thud. I doubt anyone has been noticing but I've been stealing more and more food from the cornucopia everyday. We still have plenty but I've been stashing the non-perishables in a tree trunk about 30 yards in the woods off the beaten trail. Aside from food and water I've still got the majority of the meds we haven't dedicated to wasting on Zophia, plenty of silky thin rope, and the map we've made.

That first night once we finally got Zophia back to camp and I killed Flair Whitacre went through everyone's gear and everything left in the cornucopia to collect all the medicine he could find. I resisted making a huge scene about invading my privacy but I knew it wouldn't look good to the cameras and it would result in the death of Whitacre and Zophia which isn't exactly a good move right now. We're almost to the halfway point and from there on it's a numbers game until I've won.

"Where are you going?" Zophia sits up from her relaxed position and flips her raven hair from her face. My feelings towards this one are very mixed. One the one hand it's nice to have her around because she's easy to manipulate, very ditzy and absent minded, but on the other hand she is completely worthless! She's done nothing but sit around camp eating food, abusing the medicine I fought for, and cracking jokes.

"I'm just going to go for a walk, that a problem?" I say a little too harshly, I bite the inside of my mouth until I taste a trickle of the metallic oozing blood. The tension in my shoulders seem to melt away and I take a slow personal breathe. Normally I'd take a quick hit from my inhaler but I haven't asked the sponsors for one, it'd make me look weak.

So I settle for murdering my allies. I already have my trident in hand and Zophia is the closest, so I charge at her impaling her chest and instantly causing a cannon to blast in the distance. Endorphins rush and my entire world comes to life, all my senses hyper attuned to the world. Zane and Juniper both gasp and madly dash for their weapons a decent 15 yards away, rule one a career is always armed. Always. Whitacre being the impressionable young boy his is runs at me armed with nothing more than immature anger and raw impulsive emotion. He tackles into me weighing barely half of what I weigh within two rolls I have him pinned under my knees and grab the knife attached to my thigh. I grin like a chesire cat and force the knife to crack between his ribs. With all my might I drag the blade down breaking his ribs as I go, each crack more twisted than the last until I reach the softer organs. I lift the blood covered knife to my opposite hand and rub the goo between them, I smile. His body only shakes for a few moments until his eyes roll back into his head, lifeless. My heart is pounding excitedly and my body feels like it's floating, the ultimate high. The hair on the back of my next stand on end and I sense Zane's spear soaring towards me. Immediately I twist on the ground so the spear punctures the already deceased Whitacre. I throw the body five feet to my left and with a flick of the wrist my knife zips through the air into Zane's throwing arm, making him essentially helpless. Juniper tentatively approaches me with her sword positioned far more defensively that a real career would. She obviously doesn't want to fight me, since she knows she'll lose, but she still creeps towards me best foot forward. Zane curses obscenities as he pulls the knife from his arm. His screams of pain give me focus, I furrow my brow and spend 3 seconds tumbling to Zophia's body. An electric surge flows through me the second my fingertips make contact with my trident and without hesitation I charge at Juniper teeth bared. She deflects my first few stabs by blocking the extra prongs of my trident, her defensive would be futile against a spear. I make a particularly strong thrust at her face and she points her blade perfectly perpendicular to the ground. The metal clashes ringing out cold in the warmth of a spring afternoon. Her blade is caught between the middle prong the outside prong on the left so I jerk my trident down violently twisting it as I go, her blade gets trapped between the prongs and flies through the air landing 20 feet away. Now completely unarmed I take the metal blunt end of my trident and fling it across her face releasing a pleasing crack from her nose. Zane's battlecry comes from 5 feet behind me and I again sense a spear, this time held firm in his hands. Instinctively I dive to the side and he accidentally stabs Juniper in the shoulder. She screams and grabs the spear out of pain. I can only imagine what she feels right now, the cold seeping through her entire body, her mind slowly shutting down wondering where she went wrong. Foolish girl. I stand up and throw my trident through the air aimed perfectly at Zane's leg, of course, I hit my mark and he grabs his thigh in pain falling to the ground. I stand and watch them a few minutes, taking in every moment of my easy victory, confirming what I already knew about being the strongest. Both my allies lay on the ground sporadically breathing until I hear Zane start to cough up blood. I go over to them kicking all the weapons out of their reach. It's obvious that Zane is suffering the most and going to die the fastest so I straddle his body with my legs and lower my mouth to his ear. I whisper a taunt about how weak he is and grab his neck squeezing with all my strength. Zane's fingers make a feeble attempt to claw me away but it's all in vain. His face loses it's red bloody flushed tone and turns pale, a few moments later it darkens to a deep purple and he finally accepts his death. With one last fluttering blink his eyes glaze over with a cannon signaling his final moments. I take a mental picture of the moment and feel the last pulse from the vein in his neck, it's empowering to hold his once energetic life in my hands to the point where I've drained him of everything he had. Juniper is the last one, but when I turn around to find her she's 20 yards away slowly limping with her head rolling from one side to the other, she's lost a lot of blood. I tangle my hand around my beloved trident and slip it from Zane's leg, I approach her slowly, menacingly. Of course she realizes I'm coming and I see her lips moving, pleading for me to spare her, but I can't hear a word she says, the blood pounding in my ear is too great. But there's nothing that can save her now, I take my weapon and knock her legs out from under her and she once again falls to the ground. I wrap both my hands around my trident and bring it back past my head screaming an epic battlecry as I plunge it deep in her skull. Each prong on it's own a killing mark, one through the throat, another through her nasal cavity, and the third through the crown of her skull. I'm sure a cannon is echoing in the distance but I still can't hear, not that it matters I'll relive this moment on replay when I get back to the Capital. I'm the ultimate career and nothing can stop me! Poor Juniper, she knew this would happen somehow I know that she knew, this blood is all on her hands. My pulse falls down and my ears tune into the world around me hearing the breeze through the branches of a nearby oak and a small chipmunk gnawing on an acorn looking for a meal. I gaze down at Juniper's face and her eyes mockingly stare back at me, taunting me with a bland look of finalization. Her lips open and I hear her voice.

"Would you like some company?"

I give my head a quick shake and blink a few times trying to focus in on my surroundings. Everything is exactly the way it was before I charged at Zophia. All is well. I turn to see Juniper pleasantly coming towards me with a hunting pack and sword in hand.

"Sure, never hurt anyone to have a pal around right?" I spare her a quick fleeting smile and a hasty wink. There's a bond between tributes from the same district, I can't explain it but I know there's something special about Juniper, I just can't place my finger on it. Either way she's the only one I could tolerate right now so her company actually sounds decent.

"Hey just be safe out there, people are crazy" Zophia pipes up and makes a remark about her leg. I, unlike her, am actually armed and prepared. I never did ask her why she was stabbed when she had her key weapon, a quarterstaff, in her possession when I found her. Either way, she sees me as her savior and I have no need to continue any tactic to control her, she was under my thumb from the start.

"Thanks Zophia, we'll be back soon. Try not to kill everyone while we're gone." Juniper's joke actually makes Zane and Whitacre laugh a little. It's a rare moment the past few days when the 5 of us collectively have all smiled within a 2 minute span. I wonder who will die next, and how. It's kinda sick really. Oh well.

Juniper comes up on my right flank and we take a wide trail to the north, I spent a good portion of the past few days mapping out the trails and I'm confident with my memory that the traps I place will be in high traffic areas and tip the scales in my favor. She follows me closely behind pivoting her head and dashing eyes looking for even the slightest hint of another tribute. Although I'm sure it's not helping, no one would dare attack us now, they have no strategic reason to.

"So how're you doing Xzander?" and so begins the small talk. The last silent 5 minutes were lovely and now I must entertain her. Fuck.  
"I'm doing very well thank you. And yourself Juniper?" I purposefully use her name to make my statement seem more personal. I've learned that by including names, or pet names such as bud, pal, or friend, can psychologically lull people into a sense of security, gaining their trust in the process. All very fascinating.

"Pretty darn good! What exactly did you have in mind for this little walk of ours? I know that you wouldn't want to come all the way out here for nothing." so she's got game too? I can appreciate having a conversation with another intelligent human being, which Juniper is proving to be. No wonder District 4 has so many victors, our tributes are simply better, no way around it.

"Well I have some silk rope, and frankly I want to put it to good use, I know more than enough knots to die a few trip wires. Might not be designed to kill but it'll slow tributes down and make things a little more interesting." the main reason I want to make a few traps is in case I'm ever in a bind I want a cut off point where I can make a sacrifice. Let's say Zane and I get ambushed while out hunting, if we're being overpowered then we can take off to one of the wires. Zane will trip and be their prized kill and I'll escape having caused yet another death.

"Very clever, very clever indeed." we reach the first intersection I want to trap. I find two trees or suitable size and begin working on tying a clove hitch. I tell myself 'around around up and under then pull'. Sure enough my perfectly formed knot holds and I smile. Juniper continues her assault on silence. "Have you been having nightmares? I couldn't sleep last two nights, I had this dream as real as you are now that I was being attacked by a dark haired boy with a giant axe. But each night I wake up right before he brings the axe through my head."

"Maybe you should be glad it's just a dream, worse things have been happening to people every day. Yesterday was 7's unlucky day, day before that it was 8 and 10, before that was 1, 3, 6,both from 9, 10, and 11." I speak very matter of fact and start another knot at the base of a strong birch tree. Around around up and under then pull. Perfection once again.

"They have names Xzander. Willow, Hammi, Tamarac. Nathaniel? I mean really how can you not acknowledge them?" there's an obvious stress on the word Nathaniel maybe she saw me talking to him. Either way she sounds moderately pissy and I fight the urge to scream at her but I turn the heat of my anger into a forge to hammer out my emotions.

"Yes, I know Nathaniel, I killed him, and Tamarac, and Bennick, and Flair. And one day I'm going to have to kill you, or Zane, or Zophia. That's just how this game works get over it." I speak in a monotone to let her know I'm not kidding, there's no joke about this situation it's how I actually feel. For once I'm really daring to let someone in.

"Doesn't that eat you up inside? Not the killing, but the heartlessness of it all. Can't you have a little reverence for them? For the other careers? For me?" her voice cracks when she personalizes the situation and brings her life into the mix. Truth be told I don't know what I'll do about her but that's for another day.

"Look Juniper I'm going to be frank and honest with you here ok?" she nods ever so slightly. "Right before we left for our little walk I had a fantastic day dream about killing all 4 of you. And it actually calmed me down. I enjoyed the thought of killing each and every one of you, and that wasn't even the first time! I have a 'vision' of slaughtering you guys every few hours or so. That's where I'm at right now with reverence." it's clearly not the answer she was hoping for but we both know it's the truth and she can't ask for anything more than that.

"Oh." I amble over to another tree and carry a length of the thin silk wire with me and tie yet another clove hitch. Around around up and under then pull. The strong knot stands firm when I tug on it. "I'm sorry to hear that." before she can continue I cut her off.

"Don't be, I chose to kill them, and I'll choose to kill anyone when the time comes, that's just how this goes." when I talk there's an air of finality in the conversation. Perhaps a minute, maybe more passes in complete silence, it's as though the world is trying to hear our conversation. No birds, no wind, nothing.

"Can you promise me one thing?" I don't acknowledge her a bit, I can't promise anything in the Hunger Games. "Don't make me another Nathaniel."

"I would never-" it's my immediate reaction and I try to stop the words from ever coming out. She looks deep into my eyes, her oak brown irises belong here among the trees, they compliment each other so well.

"I can see the cracks forming." she walks over to me and places her hand on my shoulder in a friendly way.

"I'll tell you when the dams about to break." it's all I can up with to say, but it's right. Something between us is just right, and she knows it. I place my hand on her shoulder and smile a genuine smile.

We continue on from path to path leaving more trip wires as we go, but it's in complete silence. For the rest of the day I'm not haunted by images of me slaughtering my allies. My thoughts are dominated by another thought.

Around around up and under then pull.

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**I hope you like it, I should have the next chapter up within a week! review!**

**much love**


	13. -Apology-

Hey, I just wanted to tell all of you that I'm extremely sorry there's been a delay with the story. A few weeks ago I was in a car crash and I've been dealing with a lot of stuff because of that, legally, socially, mentally, emotionally. Don't worry everyone is alive and well, 2 concussions one of which was mine (hence why writing is so difficult), 1 broken hip, and a few stitches, nothing the 5 of us can't just shake off eventually. I promise you that the story will go on! It's spring break and I'm trying to focus long enough to put all my thoughts together and actually get the next chapter up for you guys. I appreciate all the support from the story and like we say in the theater 'the show must go on!'. And, indeed it will. So please just bear with me for a few more days, I've got about half of the next chapter finished so I'm hoping to post next Monday the 8th, if not sooner.

Again thank you for your patience, your support, and all that jazz, it's very much appreciated!

much love!


	14. Fighting Numbness

hey guys. so wow it's been a while. a few of you have been prodding me to update and what not and since I've finally regained my complete mental stature from the crash I have. I know this chapter is short and kind of sketchy or jumpy or something like that. regardless it's a huge step forward for me to actual publish again. thank you for your overwhelming love and support. again much love.

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From the point of view of Zeebee

To be in love is merely to be in a state of perceptual anesthesia

HL Mencken

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"No, you take the needle back through the first stitch, that way it doubles over and the seam is stronger." Labute's warm hands envelope mine as he skillfully guides my fingers through the proper stages of sewing. I know that typically it's more of a woman's job but clearly he's from district 8 and I am not.

After he goes through the repetitive pattern a few times I manage to slip my dainty fingers out of his way and whether he realizes it or not he takes the torn garment and starts fixing it faster than I could with any sewing machine. It's the type of movement that comes from years of practice and second nature subconscious motor movement. I suppose that every district has it's trade and we naturally have this set of skills from where we're born. He has sewing, I have, well nothing, and the careers they have real training.

Not that fair when you put in into perspective.

Part of me truly and sincerely wants to believe that there's some good in the hearts of the tributes from 1, 2, and 4. I know 5 of them are still alive and the only dead one happened on the first day. I can only imagine why. In all honestly I'm trying to fight off thoughts of the careers. Each time another tribute dies and it's not one of the psychos our collective odds go down. I mean seriously, there's only 14 tributes left. That means 50% of the current tribute population knows how to kill and is willing to. In my calculations I'm sure to include Sterling and Uraburus, my worst fears were realized when it turns out they actually deserved the career level ratings they got. It's scary.

Nobody died on day four, yesterday, and I'm wondering how long we have until the game makers decide to spice things up and release a pack of mutts or set the forest on fire. Labute and I have made sure our camp is completely mobile in case we have to make a quick escape. If you could call this a camp, I mean all we really have is the hammock, my battle axe, his spear, and a few rations we managed to scrape up from the woods.

As it so turns out all the Vessar had in her pack after we killed her was a few pieces of dried fruit, her knife I threw in the bushes, and a few plants that neither Labute or I could really identify. It's definitely not worth the risk to munch on some dark purple berries if they could kill me instantly, forget that! I finally have something to live for.

Or rather die for I guess.

My mind keeps playing me in this vicious circle of wanting to die and wanting to live with Labute. On the one hand I know I have a life back home, an older loving sister who thinks I'm the greatest thing ever and to some extent a family and friends to go back to; an established and well functioning life that has some meaning to it be it just supporting the family or going down to the community pool and swimming a little bit.

But here, in the arena, I have him. No one ever is good enough for you until someone is and after that, well I don't know what's after that because I'm living it. He's perfect. Before I met him I never experimented with the wide range of emotions I'm supposed to have as girl, but he brings out every shade of feeling that exists on the mental spectrum. The brightest yellows of joy and laughter, the deepest purples of comfort and safety, and even the deadliest reds of survival and vitality.

Now that I've had the greatest thing that life can offer me I don't want to lose it, I'm afraid for him. At this point in time I've already accepted the fact that at least one of us are going to die, that's a given. But the variable is which? He's obviously willing to kill for me as he's already done, maybe even again I wonder.

"Hey Labute." I meekly open my mouth blushing when his head shoots up from the garment he's sewing. He does a quick hair flip and his blonde locks are tossed to the side revealing those electric green eyes, so much life and energy.

"Yeah babe? Are you hungry? I can get you something to eat, or go get more water if that's what you need." every conversation begins the same way with him ever since the incident as I've been calling it. It's always 'do you need something' or 'what do you want honey'. It's incredibly cute and makes me smile, but it just seems so out of place in the Hunger Games. Or better yet a contest for survival.

"No, no nothing like that. I'm fine." being cared for is something completely foreign to me. Even though I'm the youngest in the family I wasn't the one who was constantly groomed or pampered. That would be my sister, she always got the latest and greatest because after she started training it was as though she was the last good thing and hope our family had. You really do learn to fend for yourself in a world that doesn't care for you when you're the youngest and last fiddle.

"Just making sure of course hun." he lowers his head and his fingers continue the deliberate and confusing pattern of yarn and cotton-polyester blend. While I don't have any resentment directed at my family for how they treated me it would still be nice to how to properly respond to someone pampering me and acting like I genuinely mean something.

"Can I ask you something? And please be honest." in the arena honestly is the difference between life and death, the fine line of trust that you don't have time to earn and have to make snap decisions on who it belongs to. I must have made a smart choice in Labute seeing the current situation we're in.

"Of course lovely anything." he once again gazes up at my standing form and smiles a cheeky grin. He sets aside his current sewing project and leans back on his hands to join me standing. The gap between us is closed as his right hand brushes up and down my arm, I open my palm and his fingers instinctively fill the gap. They interlock so perfectly. I fight a blush once his thumb starts drawing circles on the back of hand. For a moment, a brief beautiful second, I forget where we are. The Hunger Games.

"What was it like." my tone remains ever and calm and I phrase my words carefully avoiding anything that has too violent of a connotation, while I want to know more about killing it still doesn't quite sit well with me. My stomach churns in uneasy anticipation of his answer.

"What was what like?" he looks at me with the same dumbfounded smile and shocking orbs of green. He really is dense, too cute.

"Ya know, Vessar, and the spear, and the knife, and me being pinned, and and yeah. That." I stutter through my words tripping over mentioning the weapons. Sometimes I can still feel the weight of the knife on my side dragging me down with guilt and timidity, or the cold radiation from the blade that nearly slashed my throat open. That shock and fear are things I'll never be able to cope with and I have to know if he's the same.

How could he not be? It was essentially murder. Does protecting me rank so high on his list of things that matter that he'd be so bold to find the audacity and permission to kill someone. How does that work? There needs to be a clear cut line between right and wrong. Murder and death. These damn games keep blurring the line between what's right and what's just flat out wrong. Doesn't he realize this?

"That whole thing? Honestly I don't really think about it much. You're alive, I'm alive, and we have food that's all that I care about." food? Really he brings up food right now? Can he not feel my hand trembling between his fingers can he not tell that I'm emanating the persona of a frightened 8 year old?

"Really? You threw a spear through her stomach." he nods looking me dead in the eyes with, not so much a smirk on his face but some look of self satisfaction. "you listen to her final dying words" his body language remains the same. "and you stole her stuff after she finished coughing chunks of blood." he still doesn't falter with whatever twisted emotion he's feeling.

"That about sums it up yeah." like a cunning fox he attempts to distract me by grabbing my other hand in an equally warm embrace and leaning his forehead down on my own. We collectively sigh an air of misunderstanding and confusion. But, while I'm still bewildered by him I'm also fascinated by him. Can any human really compartmentalize this well?

"Yet you never think about it?" my voice has fallen to a whisper with our new found contact and closeness. Each exhale he takes floods the air with a moist warmth that the fresh spring like breeze blows away.

Why must it smell so relaxing? The arena is playing tricks on my mind, the distinct smell of bonfire permeates the air around me, and I know for a fact that Labute's breath doesn't smell that good. Again I take in a large amount of air and hold my breath for an unsteady second. His embrace is physically intoxicating. His thumbs started to rub small circles on my palms and with each rough sphere being drawn my mind slowly falls into a sleepy haze.

"I'm sorry." I speak not to him, not to the cameras I'm sure are zooming in on this whole situation, but to my family back home. I know they're watching; they have to be. They might not realize it but I already have. I'll never see them again. I'll never go swimming with Bailey and I'll never go back in the powerplants and work with dad. No matter what happens I'm going to die in here.

Even if I am the victor and make it out of this beautiful, and not to mention devilish, hell hole my heart will die in here. Labute is my world. This ignorant murderer who saved my life and made it worth living with nothing more than a kiss. He will live, so long as I'm alive my job will not be that of the victim but that of the protector. He'll never realize it either, he's too dense. Too cutely, obnoxiously, and innocently dense to think of the motives behind people's actions.

Maybe I should be jealous of him. The absent mindedness of a child is a gift in the arena in comparison to the cold that permeates me everytime he pulls away. He needs to know how much I care for him. He needs to. I inch up on my tiptoes and perk my lips up to be instantly met by his. I linger for just a second too long as he pulls away.

"Labute, if you never think about her dying then what do you think about." I pull away from his hands; not because I don't crave his touch, because I do, but because I don't want to diminish the effect it has on me. It's the greatest warmth this damned arena can offer me I don't want to abuse the gift of his touch. Only when I need him, when if I turn away I'll fall apart do I want him to touch me. I don't care if it's fair to him, since I'm the one dying in here I deserve to have only those moments I want to be blissful. What good is cloud nine if I don't know what it means to be on the ground?

"You." the word lingers in the air like a heavy smoke bearing down on my senses. The overwhelming sense of attraction and the infectious curse of love makes everything else seem a tad fuzzier. The trees less green in comparison to his shining eyes, the breeze less calming in contrast to his breath, and his smile God his smile, it's brighter than the sun and warms me through and through.

I can feel my eyes starting to well up. No! Dammit Zeebee! You have to control this! I can't keep being so emotional! I knew right after the chariot rides that victory would be isolation it would be alone. But I don't want that, I can't fight for that! If you can loosely call what I've been doing fighting. I just don't know anymore!

"ACHOO." someone sneezes and I let my immediate reaction fly.

"Bless you Labute." we make eye contact and his nose isn't even sniffly.

"Dammit! Stupid ragweed! I'm allergic to everything!" I hear a high pitched whine scream out followed but quick footsteps getting farther away. Before I have time to properly process what just happened Labute tosses me my battle axe, which I catch with ease, and he's got his spear and disappears into the brush.

He's completely vanished from my field of vision. My head swivels back and forth and try to comprehend which way he's gone. I'm supposed to be protect him! Not the other way around, how can I save him if I can't keep him from running off after any tribute that makes noise.

"I'm a career you stupid boy! I have a sword you know!" there's the voice again! Oh my god. It's a career. The girls from 2 and 4 are still alive. Maybe the careers have already split up? There's still 14 tributes that's too soon. Maybe this one got kicked out? Can Labute take her? I hear screaming, his screaming. The clashing of metal on metal. The forest seems like it's spinning. Which way is the damn noise coming from!

With all my might I scream a paint peeling scream. I'm so scared. So overwhelmed. I can't believe this what should I do. I pick a random direction and let my tiny legs do the rest of the work for me. With my battle axe in tow I chop down small saplings that separate me from the path I've chosen.

_~BOOM~_

Immediately I stop. My heart is beating so quickly, Labute can't be dead. He killed the career he had to. I would know in my heart if he was dead. I just would. Please, gamemakers I'd do anything to keep him here. Maybe I can get him sponsored again? No he's fine he has to be.

"Labute! Babe!" I wail as loud as I can. I might be attracting careers towards me but I don't give a damn anything that will help him maybe even save him. "Where are you?!"

Please.

I collapse on the ground sobbing I had one job for myself and that was to save this boy. I couldn't even do that. For once I had a reason to enjoy my boring bland life. But now I have nothing. Maybe life isn't it worth it. People never come back from the Hunger Games the same. Maybe it's better to die in here and not have to put up with everything afterwards. Maybe I could end this whole thing now. There's gotta be a cliff right? Or The cornucopia the careers are still there. They took Labute so now I have nothing left. Dare I say the word?

Sui- "Zeebee? Where are you?"wait what?! Labute?

He bursts through the trees and tackles me in a hug, throwing his spear to the side and knocking my axe out of my hand. He's very wet and I glimpse down the see that he's covered in blood, I don't care whose it is because he's alive and he's mine. I grab the back of his head and force his face to mine and kiss him more violently than normal and with the knowledge of what true passion means.

"Labute I love you too. I was so worried that career would kill you. But she couldn't no one can. You're going home, of Labute." my rambling lands my head in his chest and eventually it's to the point I'm not even saying words anymore just sobbing hysterically on his jacket. My tears mixing with the metallic blood.

"Babe, chill out!" he grabs my shoulders and shakes me back to reality, almost. "It wasn't even a career! She was lying, trying to freak me out! It was the ginger chick from 12. Poked her with my buddy and took this for you." he hands me yet another knife. Identical to the one that Vessar had a few days ago. For good measure, and with a clear head on my shoulders I tuck the knife in my belt realizing it's significance. I won't make the same mistake twice.

"We can do this Labute I just know we can." I squeeze him again even tighter afraid that I might lose the contact, but eventually I know I will. I just have to learn to be ok with it. My life had no purpose,I was literally numb to the world but now I have something. "I Love you Labute."

"I love you too Zeebee, I love you too."

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Phynex (Kinsey) - no one expected you to win but trying to freak everyone out by saying youre a career almost worked. very clever.

so now that I'm uploading again I have decided that I will post a new chapter every week. so you can expect a visit from me (and Juniper) on the 9th. I'm telling you right now that everything really hits the fan the next 3 -5 chapters with a few surprising deaths no too far ahead. any idea who's going to win? or who I am?


	15. Halfway

as promised a visit from the female from district 4! since Wednesday is an awkward day to upload so the next one will be the 20th, it's a Saturday seems more natural to me ya know?

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From the point of view of Juniper

Learning to ignore things is one of the greatest paths to inner peace

Robert J Sawyer

~BOOM~

There goes another one. Cannon number 11, and it's the fourth cannon that I'm not entirely sure what caused it. There were the 2 outlier girls on day two, the girl from 7 on day three, and now this, this random tribute on day five. I wonder what day my cannon will go off, or if it will at all. I'm starting to doubt how feasible it is for a female tribute to win this thing. There's only 5 left, myself included and 9 guys. Those guys being such personalities as Sterling, Xzander, Zane, and Uraburus. I'm sure that Sterling and Uraburus are the main cause of the cannons the careers haven't caused.

Who else is still running around out there? Start from the top. Zane's alive from 1, Whitacre and Zophia from 2, girl from 3, both from 4 obviously, and both from 5. Sterling is still alive for 6 and Uraburus for 7. District 8, there's the boy still I'm pretty sure. All the tributes from 9 and 10 are dead, no shock being outliers. Then just the boy from 11 and the pair from 12. So yeah there are 13 of us left.

I'm glad the cannons took a break yesterday, no thanks to Zane, Xzander and I. We mapped every single trail, and I literally mean. Every. Single. Inch. I don't understand why the found so much enjoyment in the whole situation, Xzander especially. They both act like it was some sick test about tracking back in the academy. Now I'm not sure what they teach in district 1, but Xzander and I learned to defend ourselves not to hunt people down. There's a difference!

Or, maybe there's not and that's my way of bull shitting to myself that it's ok that I'm in here. I haven't killed anyone for a reason, and at this rate I don't think I'll have to. Xzander's on the brink of a mental break down, Zane has deferred to the role of his bitch, Zophia and Whitacre are busy playing house back at camp and I'm just being me; trying to survive. If you can loosely call this survival? I know compared to what everyone else is experiencing I'm the queen living on her high horse.

No. I can't let myself think like that anymore. Sympathy is a weapon, a mental weapon and I'm killing myself with it. No. Dammit. Not killing, just making it harder? Gah! I need to change my way of thinking. I keep trying to feel, something, maybe compassion or mercy for all these people but I can't keep doing this to myself. I feel like I'm the only sane person in here because I still feel these human emotions, but I'm losing my sanity because of them at the same token. It's a bloody contradiction.

Setting traps yesterday with my, oh so classy, district partner was eye opening. Even before the games began I knew him casually. All the training candidates do, I could name of half a dozen people who want to volunteer next year, 2 of which probably will. Xzander was always one of them, talked a massively huge game and apparently has always been able to back it up. But he didn't always seem so on edge.

I think back to the reaping and how charming he tried to appear on the stage and how when he had his interview he tried to maintain that arrogant persona and seem level headed. But now, as we all casually sit around camp, he seems like a completely different person. The arena has changed him. The first day he wasn't like this, it took time for murder to sink in. That's why I don't want to kill. Because yeah in the moment it's a great idea and it'll further me in the games, but in 2 or 3 days I have to relive their last moments.

"So how is everyone doing?" I can't sit here in silence forever. I know that these people can talk and dammit I'm going to force them too. It's good for everyone's psyche.

"I'm doing alright, kinda tired." Zophia answers me first with a stretch and a yawn. Her comment makes a valid point because the game makers have been messing with sunset and sunrise. Originally we thought that it was just a really short night, but after paying closer attention it's obvious that every day has been a different length, just so happens last night was the shortest and today seems to be taking forever.

"I agree, I think it's about time for me to take a nap." Whitacre speaks from his prone position under a large tree right in the center of camp. He's built a little shell out of the water containers. It's a safe little cove for him to retreat to, nothing too substantial but if we were ambushed it's another thing between a knife and his throat. Personally though I think he did it because it gets another barrier between him and Xzander. We still haven't forgotten that he's the traitor in our group, no matter how much he preaches it was accidental.

"Yeah it seems like today's going to be a long one." Zane for once actually contributes to the conversation; maybe I can get a little pack morale going for once.

"Well we should do something fun then! Is there anything in the gear we could use as a discus?" I perk up trying to sound happy, it's not like I'm supposed to be killing these people or anything.

"Seriously Juniper? Stupid idea." And there's Xzander and his hatred of anything that brings back a sense of normalcy and stability.

"He's right, we should go hunting that's always a good time. Hopefully, soon we could actually catch someone for God's sake." And there's Zane being his little bitch. Those two have the band of brothers battle bromance going on. I think I'm going to be sick. Almost seamlessly Xzander slips on a hunting pack; his trident hasn't left his hands since the games began. Upon seeing this Zane grabs 2 spears and slips a dagger into his boot.

"You ready?" Zane looks at me like it's a given I'm going with them because I did before. Well for their information I will be doing no more hunting. Doesn't sit right with me. He keeps his cold stone curious gaze locked on me until I raise an eyebrow in clearly negative connotation. I think he got the hint. "Alright then." is his only reply as he begins to march of to the north.

"Hey Zane! Don't do anything stupid, wait for me, and for God's sake man would you please grab a damn backpack? You act like you've never done this before." Xzander throws a pack a little too roughly at Zane's face, good thing his reflexes are pretty quick, most of those packs have at least a knife in them. I chuckle a little bit, that'd be the funniest death the Hunger Games has ever seen.

With a dejected look on his face Zane dons the backpack and releases a minor huff of discontent. Maybe he's tired of being treated like crap?

"Juniper" my head shoots up "you're in charge while I'm gone, if anything should happen just kill them and take all their shit, we only have food for about another week, so any food you can get off someone's body would be simply fabulous." Xzander's voice is still harsh against my eardrums but I try not to take it to heart, I know that when push comes to shove he wants me alive; we're district partners that's how we roll.

"Yeah don't worry about it! Who's going to attack 3 armed and deadly careers?" I lack conviction when I speak, even I don't believe myself.

"Three deadly careers? All I see is my district partner, a deadbeat, and a traitor." I'm not sure if anyone else heard him because none of them reacted to his whisper of discontent. I shouldn't be bothered because he's right.

"Well just be safe! Anything can happen ya know?" Zophia throws out her comment to make sure her voice is heard. She might be nice, but she's such a ditz, of course we know anything can happen it's the Hunger Games for God's sake!

"Whatever." Xzander turns on his heels and heads north towards the booby trapped trails, we haven't had any luck with them but eventually it's going to catch someone I know it.

I watch as they slowly sink away into the forest. It's day 5 now and we've become so complacent sitting around the cornucopia that the woods aren't safe territory for us. Anyone who's still living out there, and successfully surviving, has found some sort of shelter or something that's keeping them alive. Based on all the food and water we have around camp I doubt anyone else is still living off the cornucopia.

After lots of critical thinking and self-evaluation I think my biggest issue with the hunger games is that I value my comfort and security way too much. I feel safe here at the cornucopia sitting around being lazy. I feel safe not going into the drastically unknown arena. We might have a map of trails but tributes like Sterling have a cognitive map. Landmarks and safe areas within the woods, because let's face it, if Zane were to run after a tribute and that tribute took half a step off the trail he'd be blind in the woods, or at least I would.

Whoa. Something is wrong with me. For a second there I believed that killing wasn't the worst part. Shit I'm changing. Everyone says the arena changes you, is this beginning of it? I really need to clear my head.

"Hey Juniper, you doing alright?" as if she read my mind Zophia walks up beside me and nudges my shoulder snapping me back to harsh reality. For a brief moment I try and collect my thoughts, whatever they may be.

"I'm doing fine I guess, a lot going on in my mind." I slip and actually tell her the truth. You can't trust people in here, for all I know she could be an evil mastermind, I don't think that she is, but you never know in the arena. Every few years there's a surprise tribute like Zophia who makes a big daring move and kills their allies. That can't happen to me.

"I know what you mean." she wraps her arm around my shoulder like friends do, friends not allies. "This place is a little weird. But I like all the trees, that's something I'm not used to, District 2 is mostly stone," she laughs "I mean obviously because it's masonry ya know?" she keeps cracking up. Nope, definitely not a mastermind here.

"As opposed to whatever District 4 has." Whitacre chimes in like the conversation was designed for him. They are district partners. The thought never occurred to me that they might try and kill me while the guys are gone.

"Lots of sand and coastline, it's really beautiful place. I can't wait to get back. My friend Coley, Luderick, and I have a special fishing cove. I miss it, I want to swim one more time." Beautiful thoughts of the oceans come flooding in my mind. The early morning sunrise teeming over the sullen ocean, the pods of gray dolphins skimming across the horizon, the distinct plop of a hook falling in a secret pond. These are the things I'm never going to have again. These simple, lovely things that I always took for granted are now all I have left of home, as memories. I turn my back on my allies and bite my lip trying to prevent my eyes from leaking in front of them. I'm in charge. I have to at least seem strong.

"That sounds great. I miss home too Juniper." Again Zophia ensnares my shoulder with her thin, yet toned arm. "My little brother and I would always go to this quarry ran by my neighbor. We'd play king of the rock and push each other over until we were both covered in scratches and bruises. No matter how many times I shoved him down he's always crawl back up and tackle me and keep trying. The little scamp, he's 13 so I have a year on him but it still counts."

"At least you're the oldest!" Whitacre comes on my other side and the three of us are standing together like we've been best friends for a few years. "I'm the youngest of 4, and let me tell you my older brother and older sisters love beating up on me. They all think I'm snobby and sarcastic. Whatever." He lowers his head like he's contemplating something stoic and important.

"Spit it out Whitacre." I gently nudge him on. Maybe a sense of group community is what I need. After all this whole pack bonding thing is shown every year maybe there's something to it?

"It's just" he pauses as a warm breeze blows through camp; maybe the Capital is digging this? "the last thing I said during my goodbyes was that I hate my brother. He's 18 and twice and trained as I am, I couldn't wrap my head around why he wouldn't volunteer for me. After all he's older, isn't he supposed to be the one protecting me? Not letting them send me off-" he cuts himself off, obviously not wanting to relive such a horrible memory.

I feel bad for the both of them, they have families. They have siblings who love and care about them. People whose lives would be impacted forever at their deaths. How can I justify killing them, or watching them die, when I'd be ripping apart a family? How do I live with myself after something like that? How has Whitacre been living with himself, he's the tribute who's racked up a kill. And out of the pair from district 2 at least one of them is going to die, both of them if I'm to go home to Darsea. Darsea! My sister. My family. My blood. My reason to fight and never give up.

"I hope that he knows I don't hate him. I wouldn't have volunteered for anyone if I was 18 and so damn close to being with the reapings." Whitacre releases my side and walks back to his water tank cove. Zophia too steps away and the warm breeze engulfs me. My dirty blonde locks tumble past my face and the curls tickle the nape of my neck.

With a new found and highly misunderstood confidence I have a strange urge to kill something. This is good. I need this feeling if I'm to actually get home. It's way too early to slaughter the pair from 2 so I guess that means I'm going hunting.

Holy shit I'm going hunting alone. This should be interesting.

Without a word I walk over to my tent and strap on my sheathed sword. It's been my trusty and unused savior. I decide that I'm not going to waste my time by carrying food and water, so I suffice by just slyly hiding our last healing salve in my pocket. Zophia's leg doesn't need it anymore. If she does whatever, forget her.

"Where are you go-" I cut Zophia off with a sideways arm gesture.

"It's something I have to do."

"I get it." We share a moment of, I don't know, equilibrium? And, without a blink of an eye I head east, it's the area we've least checked and it's my best chance of finding someone I think. It's unknown and dangerous, the perfect spot for an unwitting outlier to hide.

Before I know it I turn around and I can't see the cornucopia anymore. My feet have carried me to an area I've only seen once. I follow my previous track until I'm at the spot Xzander and I found Zophia bleeding out 20 minutes into the game. Past this spot its new territory to me, the farthest I've travel away from the cornucopia. It's my best chance of finding someone and killing them.

I pause briefly and afford myself a quick respite. I'm not tired at all I simply have to make sure my psyche is clear. Instinctively I grab Luderick's pendant. What would he tell me right now? What would Coley? What would anyone? While rubbing my thumb along the triangle my fingernail gets caught in the engraving, with a quick glance I remember what word it's on. Peace. That's what Luderick would tell me, peace. I need to be at peace, to kill. With a steady breath I slow down my heart rate and close my eyes and tune my senses to my immediate area.

When I open my district 7 eyes I see the world with a different light. With a healthy perspective and something else, hope maybe? I can do this. I really can. I stand up tall and straighten my spine as I begin to trek into the deeper unknown parts of the arena. Carefully walking so that I minimize my impact on nature I try and ease my foot faults to make myself untraceable. I'm the hunter.

After a decent half hour of randomly roaming around I haven't found anything even close to a tribute. I followed a pair of deer tracks hoping that it'd lead me somewhere but it was a dead end. I will admit though, the game makers did a nice job on this arena. It's the perfect combination of creepy and eerily lonely and damn gorgeous. The canopy filters the light and beams fight through to strike the moist ground. No wonder there are so many plants. I ran into a grown raspberry bush the provided the plump fruit I now call a snack. Sure I've seen a few things that I can't easily identify but I never said I was a survival expert. That's Xzander, he's good at everything, or so he thinks.

He might have scored highest for the careers but 2 people still beat him. Sterling got an 11 for heaven's sake. That's impressive, I wish I knew why. He seemed so serious and stoic the whole time. His interview was cold and calculating while during training days he barely spoke to anyone aside from his deceased training partner. Maybe he has an alliance I didn't pick up on? I should have paid more attention to everything! Like I am now, I can see everything.

Including those footprints.

I creep over to the prints and kneel down next to them being sure to take note of what type of tread my shoes have as to keep the two sets apart. I use my hand to measure the size of my shoe against the print. They're about an inch longer and half an inch wider, definitely a male. There's only one set so it's not Xzander or Zane. Leaves district 5, 6, 8, 11, and 12.

Think back, Sterling and Uraburus are both very thin and lithe. I look at the depth of the prints; they are pretty deep, unless this person was running. I don't think it was them but it very well could be. It's not the shorty from 11 though, way too small. For the love of me I can't remember what the boys from 8 and 12 look like. I guess when I was in the Capital I didn't want to know. Sure would've helped me now.

Fighting back the sense to rush and make an error I slowly and manically follow the path. I stay low to the ground and place each foot so carefully as to avoid loud branches. Based on how steady the steps are this person was walking and based on how beaten down the trail is they've made this trek a few times, perhaps between their camp and a food source?

I follow the track a few more feet with no avail until I hear a crack-crack noise. I look underneath me and see I'm not stepping on any sticks. My head swivels about look for perhaps an animal making the noise. My wandering eyes eventually spot a bright blonde haired boy casually walking with a predetermined destination. I crouch behind a tree and watch as a knot in the tree next to turns to face me, a shine bounces off of it and I know I'm being watched by the cameras. This is good; let them watch I hope everyone's watching this.

When I peek around the tree I notice that this random boy hasn't seen me he's still adamantly following a trail and unless I'm mistake he's humming a happy tune. The Capital loves suspense so I keep a safe yet dangerous distance behind him. After a few more minutes of stalking I hear his destination. I'd never forget the sound of water trickling around a stream bed.

This moment was meant for me! It must have been predetermined that I'd find him and be lead to a body of water, even if it is just a steady brook, it counts. With deadly precision I unsheathe my sword and quietly move the blade to my normal combat stance. I rise on my feet and press my back against a tree taking slow and even breaths

Again I peek my head around the tree and watch the innocent boy cup a handful of water and bring it to his lips, eliciting a safe and relieved sigh. He feels so protected. I really can do this. I have to, for Darsea, Luderick, Coley, and all of District 4. I squint my eyes over the 10 yards and find a 12 on his shoulder, looks like they won't be having a winner any time soon.

Ok let's do this. I take step around the tree and freeze where my foot lands.

"I'm going to kill you! You worthless scum." A voice roars from across the stream and I pray that I'm hidden well enough behind the tree. A fiery mane comes busting through the woods armed with a spear. The blonde kid from 12 all too late realizes that he's being attacked, he stands up to run but the moment he finds his feet the spear finds his stomach.

He releases a guttural noise as he fights for his last breath but it's all in vain. Uraburus kicks his feet out from under him and he falls in the stream tainting it with his blood.

~BOOM~

"Aaaahhhh!" Uraburus shouts with all his might, he continues to stab the boy even though the cannon signified his death. "My first kill, typical scum from 12. You never stood a chance."

From my spot on the forest floor I watch as he makes a final stab through the boy's abdomen and as though nothing happened he nonchalantly walks back to the direction from which he came. It all happened so quickly I can't quite process anything aside from; I just witnessed the death of the boy from 12. We're halfway done. Awesome.

In the silence I sit for another minute and then I realize the body hasn't been picked up because I'm still here. For some possessed reason I walk over to the body and check for a pulse, already knowing that I won't find one. He's so pale, clearly he was living off the land and not real food. Once I turn his body over I don't find as much as sling shot on him. He literally just turned on his heels and ran away at the bloodbath. Guess that plan was only good for 5 days in the arena.

Since I've found water I splash my face and feel the refreshing trickle of water soaking through my shoes. I miss this, so much. I need to go back home. I will go back home.

The next half hour passes by as though I'm in a trance. I frolic in the water and splash around like I don't have any cares in the world. This might be the closest I get to home and I'm going to enjoy every second of it. The only reason I leave is because the body is still leaking blood and the stench is starting to drive me insane.

Ever so carefully I trace my own track back to where I first began and in a matter of minutes I've hastily marched back into camp to be met by all 4 of my career buddies.

"And to think I thought it was her cannon, I'm glad you're safe though." Xzander is the first to greet me, and even though it's strange of him he hugs me and smiles. I smile back.

"Hey! There she is! Woman of the hour! Who'd you kill?" Whitacre is the next to verbalize his joys of seeing me, with Zophia standing not too far behind him.

Oh God. They all think I was the cause of the cannon. How silly. I chuckle. "You guys will just have to wait and see, they do the face in the sky thing for a reason." We share a good hearty chuckle.

It's only 5 minutes later until the night miraculously falls down on us; I guess the Capital has decided that we've collectively earned a rest. Two deaths in one day have been the most since the second day. Pretty good all considering.

Through everyone's excitement they show the face of not just the boy from 12 but also the girl from 12. That's another district out of the running. Once the anthem is over I'm met with more jeering and general happiness. I'm sort of a little career celebrity tonight.

Everyone sleeps soundly and nothing happens through the night, in fact Xzander took my shift tonight so I got a full nights rest, first time since I was in the Capital to be honest. Even if I'm not a killer, to them I am. Don't ask me why but that made all the difference. I can't wait for tomorrow, I have a good feeling about it. Plus hello, I've made the top 12! We're halfway there.

* * *

Oakland (Caleb) - haha yeah sorry bud you dead. you died hardcore.

Also, little shout out to someone I've been getting to know very well this last week and also the person who encouraged me to keep posting on this story thank you to my friend books-are-brain-food456 you've been nothing short of inspirational and I'm glad you found this story, it might have stopped had you not intervened


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